


Souviendra De Nous

by InZane_Zaki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, F/F, F/M, Multi, Souviendra De Nous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InZane_Zaki/pseuds/InZane_Zaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[FLEURMIONE] [Harry Potter in Hunger Games universe] What would it take to bring back what's lost? To crave for someone that's been long gone? Hermione Jean Granger, victor of the 74th Hunger games, have won yet lost in the same time. How can she bring back what she have lost if in the first place, she can no longer get it back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> But I wonder where were you?  
> When I was at my worst  
> Down on my knees  
> And you said you had my back  
> So I wonder where were you?  
> When all the roads you took came back to me  
> \- Maroon 5. "Maps"

Reading Legends:

  * "Spoken words"
  * _'Thoughts'_
  * _"Flashes of the past - words"_
  * _Flashes of the past - narration_



* * *

 

 

_“You should live. There are more things you need to do. For me… For all of us.”_

_“But! No… no… NO!”_

_Blood splattered on her face as a weak pearly smile shined among the dark surroundings. Shaking intensely, she looked up and found sky-blue eyes staring back at her, full of warmth and care._

_“I was lucky… to… at least…”_

_“No… Bloody bitch! Don’t-“_

_“Take care… of her… okay?”_

“No!”

Someone shot up from a lavish bed after letting out an ear-splitting scream within a dark-lit room. Heavy pants escaped the lips of the scared occupant of the bed, as arms wrapped around the sweat-coved body, hoping to still the shakiness and palpitating heart.

“It’s that bloody nightmare again…” The single occupant of the room whispered weakly.

Adjusting in the darkness, both arms unwrapped from the tight hug on the sweaty body and reached to the side of the bed to turn on the lights.

With a flick of the switch on the wall beside the bed, the room lit-up in a brightly, making the sole occupant shield away from the bright light that filled the room by using a hand to cover one’s sight. With the room well-lit and eyes slowly adjusting to the light, the lone inhabitant shakily stood up and strides towards the table by the left corner of the room that has a pitcher and a glass on top of it; Hope to still the fast beating heart in mind. Taking the pitcher and pouring water into the glass until it is full, the inhabitant of the room gently placed the pitcher down and drank the contents like a life would be loss if it was not consumed within the next few seconds.

With the cool liquid consumed, the occupant looked at the standing mirror beside the table and sighed heavily.

The person being reflected by the mirror is not what it used to imitate. Before, it would show someone ambitious, aiming to work diligently until achieving a high ranking title and happy despite being teased for being a brainiac. But now, the person being reflected by the mirror looked like the world has forsaken everything that can have meaning.

The usually bushy brown hair looked more tousled than usual, doe-like chocolate brown eyes bloodshot due to her continuous nightmare and lack of sleep, and pale skin covered in sweat and a few edges of dark and light brown scars visible and reflected by the mirror intricately.

The mirror showed the occupant’s feminine features perfectly. How the occupant, a young woman not more than seventeen years old, looked tired, weak, and as if she had survived a brutal battle.

The teen growled at what she was seeing. How troubled and weak she looked like.

It was her fault; having a very clear and clean mirror. Reflecting what she physically looked like with only her clothes covering more of her painful past very clearly to her.

Dressed in a white tank top and pajama pants, she reach out to the drawer near the tall mirror and grabbed a hair tie from it, tying her wild mane to a loose ponytail hairstyle. Her eyes looked at the wall clock hanging on the wall, atop of her flat-screen television, and sighed.

It was only 4:00am

“Better go out and run…” she whispered, walking towards to her armoire and changed her clothing to a pink sports bra, black sweatpants, and white rubber shoes. Her sports bra showed the remaining length of her light brown scars that was covered by her tanktop earlier, on her abdomen, and some on her arms. She did not mind the said marks.

Not anymore.

Leaving her room, she stopped by the kitchen and took a bottle of water from the small cooler. Once she got the cooled bottled water, she then proceeds to the front door and head out of the house.

 Stepping out, the cold air greeted her and made her skin crawl and involuntary shivered. It was almost Christmas, a few months after the dreaded event. “It would be a cold winter.” She mumbled. But the cold did not bother her, even if her skin reacted to the freezing temperature. Taking a deep breath, the young brunette started her jog.

She needs to clear her head. To stray the memories of her nightmare away. But her attempts have been futile ever since the start. Her emotions have been damaged by the mental torture she received after winning the last Hunger Games a few months back.

No blood, scars, brutality or even the government can compare to the nightmare she’s been having after the event. Nothing can compare to how her heart reacted to each of those dreams.

“Nothing is more heartbreaking than seeing you only in my dreams…” She whispered, furrowing her brows a she hasten her pace. Her eyes starrf blankly and feet jogging at a fast yet rhythmic phase.

_“You look cute when you’re mad.”_

_“Hermonie… Hermione Jean Granger? A fitting name for an angel, no?”_

_“Here, I got some healing salve from a sponsor. Use it.”_

_“Hungry? Don’t go for the berries, they’re poisonous.”_

_“I love you Hermione.”_

“Hermione!”

The brunette was pulled her out of her reminiscing of her past when she felt a strong pull from her right arm and her name being called. Instincts taking over, she grabbed the invading appendage on her limb and pulled it close while her right arm angled, elbow pointed at towards who or what it is that caught her arm. Her elbow connected to figure and a loud groan snapped her out of her primal instincts and checked her surroundings. She looked down to found a young man, not older than her, hunched down on the ground and cradling his chest as he moaned in pain.

“Oh! Sorry Ron!” The jogger crouched down and ran her hand over the boy’s back, hoping to lessen the pain he received after she elbowed him to the sternum. She watched how the boy’s red hair swayed and groaned loudly in pain.

The red-haired boy, Ron, looked up with tears in his eyes and arms wrapped around his chest. “Blimey ‘Mione! You don’t need to be all brutal on me.” He quipped, trying to catch his breath that was knocked out of his lungs.

Hermione rolled her eyes and swatted Ron’s head with her bottled water. “Don’t be a baby you git. You may look skinny but I know your body’s tight on muscles.” She stated. She was sure of what she said knowing the redhead is working along the coalers.  Carrying heavy pickaxes and pushing the railcars in and out of the mines. She have been inside the mines and aside from the smell of sweat and dampness, she find the place fascinating for its rare minerals sticking out of the wall aside from the coal. Then she remembered that the redhead’s shift isn’t until four hours. Narrowing her brows, she looked at the redhead skeptically. “Ron… Why are you here?” she asked with an accusing tone in her voice.

Ron sat up, pounding his chest like he was realigning an imaginary dislocated rib as he huffed and avoided Hermione’s gaze. The question isn’t really a ‘why you are here?’ but more of ‘are you seriously asking me again?’ kind of inquiry.

“You know why… You barely go out of your house! Your mum and da are worried. Plus we all want you to join!”

Hermione’s mood darken. “Join? And what? Be this so-called ‘Mockingjay’? The Ministry already dubbed me as the ‘Brightest Tribute of all’ and I didn’t accept their offer to stay at that snake pit of a capital. Why do you think I would accept yours? Face it Ronald, Hermione Granger will no longer fight.”

“But we need you! Harry’s been fighting and I am too. The whole family is. We **_ALL_** need you.” Ron pleaded.

_“You should live. There are more things you need to do. For me… For all of us.”_

 A memory flashed in Hermione’s mind and she sucked a lungful of air in between her clenched teeth. Her face contorted as she tried reigning her emotions in. It haunts her and yet, she was glad it did. The memories served as a nightmare but also a dream.

A dream to meet the person haunting her sleep.

Hermione sat down on the ground, not minding the dirt that would clung on her pants, and propped up her knees and buried her head on them as she hugged her legs close. She was trying to keep her emotions in check. She doesn’t want to lash out to the boy who she grew up with, one of them that is, or anyone at all. Yet again.

There had been enough anger that caused her to fall into a darkness she can’t get out of. Drowning in a deep lake, with a voice of one she can’t forget and acted as her source of oxygen.

A hand was placed over her slumped right shoulder, squeezed it a bit or reassurance, but she did not move or acknowledged it.

“Hermione… It’s time to move on. It’s not your fault. It was like kill or be killed.” Ron said sympathetically. They knew, those of in the district knew, what had really transpired during the last Hunger games. How Hermione Granger, _Hogwarts_ region _\- Gryffindor_ District tribute, _really_ won the 74 th Hunger Games.

The brunette looked up, eyes blazing in anger, but remained on her spot. It was a cut to the thin thread holding her emotions in. She can see the redhead move back, a hand still over her shoulder, but fear was evident in his eyes.

She did not care.

He said something that he shouldn’t and now he will pay the price.

“Move on? How the bloody hell could I move on if every night I can see her!? How can someone just move on after seeing someone die just to survive!?” She spat. She then buried her head back to her knees and sobbed. “How can I move on if she died just because of me…”

Ron sighed and placed both hand on his friend’s quivering shoulders. “Listen… That’s how it works. That’s why the Order has been created to stop the whole Games.” He explained once again. He had explained it to his friend, all about the Order of the Phoenix; but the woman who stood before the three regions, twelve districts, became the pillar of rebellious hope and won the last Hunger Games, stopped. Stopped living and stayed completely away from everyone and anyone. Even her family and friends.

They all understood her in a way. Anyone would not be able to escape the trials without being scarred, mentally or physically. Unfortunately for Hermione, her mind and body suffered in the last games.

Hermione Jean Granger, daughter of the renowned dentists, Frantz and Dorothy Granger, was picked to be the Tribute for the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games. Despite not being brought up in poverty like the other occupants of Gryffindor District, she was picked to be a Tribute at the age of seventeen.

A Tribute – One who will participate in the sadistic games of the capital that is **_Slytherin_** District, needs to survive or die with millions of people watching. It is a reminder of the capital, the Ministry, the ruling government of **_Midgar_** \- the overall land mass they currently inhabiting; they are not to be defied like what District thirteen did, seventy-four years ago. That they control anyone and everyone by inducing fear in their hearts.

The Hunger Games, title that says it all, is like a pitting a dozen or more animals, depends on the game makers, in a place where each one of them are famished and the only way to get food is to kill the other competitors. It was how the **_Hrist_** District male Tribute, from **_Durmstrang_** region, explained it to her before. She forgot his name but his ways are brutal and chaotic than the other Tributes.

And yet Ministry is firm in stating that it was not a savage game. They said that it is merely a reminder to everyone the harshness of their lives before. That instead of a bloody battle, they will pick one from each district of the three regions and have them face each other in one of the locations outside the inhabited landmasses. **Hogwarts’** **Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw,** and **Hufflepuff**. **Beaubaxtons’ Sylph, Efreet, Undine,** and **Gnome**. And **Durmstrang’s Hrist, Lenneth, Silmeria** and **Brynhildr**.

Two Tributes per district; battling it all out for fame, glory and life.

No matter how the Ministry sugarcoat it, it is still a sadistic game.

A game where it starts with sacrifice picking, then throwing them to the Slytherin District for show and parade, then to the arena which the game master chooses and the killing of everyone until one remains standing.

Hermione did not want to be a Tribute; but as per rules, she has to participate.  Her friends, sadly being boys, wanted to volunteer but she shook her head and faced her fate with a smile. Even her friend, Harry James Potter, winner of the seventy-second Hunger-games, wanted to volunteer as Tribute, but since they are boys, they can’t. She smiled at them, assured that she will win so that they would once again live away from the Ministry’s eyes.

And yet, the braveness that Gryffindor is known for, she was still inwardly shaking in fear.

But during her stay in Slytherin, everything changed. Her goal to survive the hellish event, fend for her own life and survive until the end; it crumbled down and was suddenly replaced with a new goal when she met the female tribute of the _Beaubaxtons_ region, Sylph District. Her plans, perfectly lay out from start to finish, all ruined upon meeting the said Sylph Tribute with sky-blue eyes and short messy blonde hair.

She did not tell anything about it to anyone before and after the games. Not even her trainer, Minerva McGonagall, a former Gryffindor Tribute that acted as her mentor, knows of her secret during her stay in the Capital. Though she suspects the old champion knew of it. Mcgonagall does have a motherly instinct and she’s been treated as the trainer’s own daughter. That and the fact that whenever she is with the Sylph female Tribute, the old woman was gone with either Sybill Trelwney, her stylist, or Bathsheda Babbling, the stylist of Cormac McLaggen, the male Tribute of Gryffindor.

Sadly for Cormac, he did not make it and was killed as soon as the war in the Cornucopia started. Mcgonagall did say not to even try to reach for the weapons and grab anything near them as they can and **RUN**. Her mentor specifically wrote the word run in uppercase and bold. She followed what her mentor said, she avoided anything and everything. All even.

That is except for a certain Beaubaxtons Tribute.

But it was because of the said Sylph Tribute that her life as of now is crumbling. The nightmares made it worse. Replaying everything that had transpired in the capital like it was just yesterday. She relived the dreaded game, like watching it in a full high-definition television. Clear and crisp surround sounds. And with it, it’s slowly chipping her mind.

To rub salt into the wound, the offers to stay at the capital, train the possible Slytherin district Tributes, and live lavish life with her family came. The offers came to her as if she really did won the games on her own. Without any help. But all have been rejected.

Then it was not the end of it.

The Order of the Phoenix.

A rebel group that’s fighting the Ministry to stop the spiral of death that is the Hunger Games. People who disliked the ruling of the Ministry, from each Regions, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beaubaxtons, joined in the cause and did their best to sabotage the Ministry and show to everyone that the killing must stop. The group was once led by **_District thirteen_ , _Ys_** – the center of the three regions – but the rebellion stopped when the Ys District was demolished by the Capital.

For Hermione, the Order’s goal may be noble but their ways are nothing more than what the Ministry is doing to enforce their laws.

Brute strength.

And that’s where she comes along yet again.

The Order needed her for some reasons she doesn’t know. All her friends, everyone in the Gryffindor District, have been asking her to join, but when she asks why, all they said is that it was time to overthrow the Ministry. To stop the Hunger Games. But it was not enough. She kept wondering why they need her. Why they actually need a winner if they already have plenty already on their side.

Despite everyone not knowing about her secret during the games or why the Order wanted her to join them, the 74th Hunger Games proved that she is a threat to the Ministry. She knows they fear her, but she can’t say or even think it was the reason why the Order wanted her. The Ministry plotted to keep her in Slytherin District by offering her lavishing opportunities, to ensure she would always be watched, and gave her the title of ‘Brightest Tribute of all’ to boost her ego. Bribe her with fame and fortune. Ensuring the lives of her parents would be safe.

But this also caused the woman to be suspicious and hate them.

When Hermione won, she turned her back on the Ministry. She declined all offerings laid before her. The winning spoils, luxurious house in the Capital, fame, and even a seat of power in the Ministry itself. All of it means nothing to her. And it helped that her status as winning Tribute would mean they would not touch her even if she declines.

The old Hermione, before the Tributes’ parade, would’ve accepted the offer without blinking. It was assurance for hers and her family’s safety and she wanted to be part of the Ministry. But after being forced to open her eyes to the truth, the death of her heart, the so-called ‘Mockingjay’ as the rebels tagged her, was born. A slap to the capital. A mistake they cannot undo.

She can understand why a Mockingjay is a slap to the capital’s faces. It is a bird that they did not expect to even exist. A Mockingjay is a hybrid of Jabberjays, a type of mutated bird that was created to spy on rebels of the capital, and mocking birds. It was when they deemed Jabberjays as failures, due to delivering conversations both truths and lies and cannot distinguish it, they released it in the wild and mating with female mockingbirds. The offspring, a Mockingjay, represented rebellion and justice. That one failed experiment became something great.

“So?” Ron asked, his voice full of hope.

Hermione looked at her childhood friend and shook her head. She was through with everything that involves the Ministry. “No Ronald. I have said this before and I’ll say it again…” She stood up and took a deep breath before glaring at the redhaired coaler. “I will never join the Order of the Phoenix.” She said defiantly, turning around and began jogging back to her house. On her way back, she noticed a flying bird, a Mockingjay, flew past her and she felt in her gut that it is a bad sign.

Three days has passed and Ron never brought the topic again. Hermione, secretly hunting, roamed around the Forbidden forest to find her next prey. The Forbidden forest is a lush of greenery that divides Beaubaxton’s Sylph District and Hogwart’s Gryffindor District. It was a place abundant with wild fruits, vegetables and animals. Animals are the ones the brunette aimed to find. From a district of miners and blacksmiths, hunting for meat is a great occupation and she excelled in it. Of course, only a handful of people know that she hunts and even leave the fence.

With a tattered make-shift bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, she stalked the forest to find a big animal she could sell.

It took her hours, from the planned one hour, her search pulled up to four hours, eliciting the huntress to feel hungry and tired at the same time. Chocolate-brown orbs scanned around for any signs of wild beasts or worse a Ministry guard: Inquisitorial Squad or what they call them, the I.S, that would find her inside the Forbidden forest. It is called as Forbidden because no one without proper authorization are allowed inside it. Punishment ranges from a hundred lashes to death. Whichever comes first. When she did not find any I.S or wild beasts, she settled under a tall thick tree and took out her lunch from the pouch she carried. She brought an apple and a bottle of water.

Snacking peacefully, the famed ‘Brightest Tribute of all’ did not open her senses to her surroundings. She ate her apple in a fast pace, skinning it down to the core, and decided to rest for a few minutes before she continue her hunt. Though her small meal could satiate her hunger temporarily, she looked around and noticed how familiar the place is. Her lips cracked into a small smile upon remembering why the place is familiar to her.

Why it was special.

“ _I cannot zee ‘ze reason to w’y ‘zould I not tell ‘ze 'aye-eez’ about you, ma petite chou”_

_“The same reason why I’m not telling about you too. And did you just call me a cabbage?”_

_“Eet zoundz better in français zan anglais. But you ‘ave a point in not telling ‘ze ‘aye-eez’. ‘Zey are ra’zer annoying for my tazte.”_

_Silence_

_“‘Zo, w’at are you doing ‘ere, ma petite? Surely you are wize to know ‘ze dangers lurking in ‘zeze forest, oui?”_

_“I could ask you the same.”_

_“Will you be anzering any of my queztionz anytime zoon?”_

_“Will you stop asking me questions?”_

_“Very well. I guez I can atleazt ‘ave zome peace and quiet, no? I do need to make ‘ze cute birdiez to zing with me.”_

Her memories. A young teen with dark blue eyes, like the ocean, smiled at her with a bit of cockiness in them. She remembered sitting on the same spot she is now, and listened to the teen singing like an angel. The way the woman with dark blue eyes sang beautifully that the birds stopped singing to listen to her and then sang along with her.

 Her mind, lost in her happy memory, triggered for her to close her eyes and hum along the song that soothed her heart. She was drowning in her memory once again. One of a teen with platinum blonde hair and ocean blue eyes with a voice that lulls her.

Then her humming echoes within the small clearing that made a flock of Mockingjays mimic the tune perfectly. This made her blood run cold and her eyes shot wide open.

“Shite!” She curses, scrambling up and gathering her pouch, bow and her arrow. The humming of the Mockingjays can call the attention of anyone nearby and she did not want to be caught by anyone. She ran back to the edge of the forest, careful to not make any sound, she lodged her ratty weapon inside a big crack in a large tree and trekked back to her home.

Unknown to her, the Mockingjays continued to sing, next verse being continued flawlessly along with a whistling version of what Hermione was humming.


	2. Another Side of the Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione will receive a visitor from the Ministry and the whole Gryffindor district will be visited by someone whom everyone despises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We, and I mean me and my two co-writers, would like to thank everyone who read our story. We are glad that you gave this a few minutes of your time and read this.
> 
> Now, on with the story.

Of all Hermione's visitors, she hated those from the Ministry the most. Worse if it's either Lucius Malfoy, the current Minister of the Ministry, or his son, Draco Lucius Malfoy. The two Slytherins are both an epitome of arrogance and pride. Though the younger one, Draco, still has hope; he can still change and stop his egoistical attitude.

To her relief, the one who visited her for the day is Draco himself, together with his goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. She could at least stand the young Malfoy than his father.

Draco sat on one of Hermione's living room sofa, having a calm smile on his face as he watched the so-called 'Brightest Tribute' or how he sees it, the 'Golden Girl', with interest. He have asked his bodyguards to stand outside Hermione's house to make sure that no one would disturb them, especially Harry Potter and the redhead rat, Ron Weasley, to ensure that he can have a one-on-one chat with Hermione. With the two of them alone in the brunette's house, he nursed a cup of hot coffee while the said winning Tribute was glaring at him fiercely. He knew why. "C'mon Granger, it's not like I'm here to execute you." He joked.

Hermione's glare got fiercer than before upon seeing the blonde tease her. She hated how the blonde Slytherin born and raised, makes stupid jokes. "If you are here once again to ask me back to your slimy district, then the answer is still no." She told the blonde who just chuckled at her response. "I'm serious here Malfoy."

"Oh I know. I have seen the mails you have in the trashcan outside your house." The blonde laughed and took a sip of his coffee. He can feel the anger being radiated by Hermione and he knew that if he prolongs his childish quips, he would either be killed by the tea cup she's holding or one of the fire irons near the fireplace. He rather likes being alive and breathing. "But my business here is a bit different."

"Different?" Hermione snorted. "What would be different this time then?"

"Just a few offerings. The Capital does need your intellectual views on how we can reform Midgard. And your keen talent with a bow." He took a sip from his cup again and smiled at the brunette. "You can even live here and send us messages through the network. We'll provide all electronic gadgets you will need."

Hermione gripped her teacup tighter.  _'No matter how much they coat it, it all means one thing.'_  She forced herself to calm down.  _'No use getting agitated over it again and again.'_  She noted, trying very hard to calm herself down and not lash at the blonde before her. "Look Malfoy-" she started, eyes still closed. She just can't bear looking at the blonde right now. "I said it before and I will, your father be damned, say it again. No Means no." she said firmly. Sure she insulted the current minister, but she's far too pissed off with the Ministry to even care. She opened her eyes only to see that Draco did not looked offended at all.

Draco took no offense in what the girl said. He was not stupid not to know how the people view his father and the Ministry itself. Though some may support them, he is well aware that people dislike their views. Who wouldn't if every year there will be one boy and girl that would be picked as sacrificial sheep just to prove a point that Slytherin, the Ministry, owns their lives. That they control their lives. "I knew you would say that. And no, I'm not offended with what you have said about my father." He grinned. "I will tell my father that you declined, again, to our offer."

The Gryffindor Tribute raised a brow at how calm Draco is. Usually, he will stand up and say 'I'll tell my father about this', and then storms right off. She looked left and right and then to the Slytherin. "Draco… Why are you really here?" she asks, eyeing him skeptically.

The blonde placed the coffee cup down to the table in front of him and took an envelope from his pocket and slid it towards Hermione's direction. The envelope created a scrapping sound on the table as it slid towards Hermione. "Something for bothering you, for I dunno, a bunch of times." He said with a smirk. He picked up his coat hanging behind him and stood up. "Well it was nice talking to you. Do let us know if you will change your mind." He tilted his head, silently bidding his leave, and leaving the brunette alone with the envelope.

Left alone, Hermione eyed the item on the table with her hand stopped midway to reach it. It was like a bomb to her eyes. One touch, opening the item, she has a gut feeling that she would regret it. Regret not opening it. Regret opening it.

From the Games, she learned to rely on her gut feeling, made sure it kept her safe. Her hand, shaking, was retracted from its goal to get the item and sighed heavily. "I need a heavier drink…" She mumbled, pushing off her seat and went to her kitchen.

The next day came and Hermione was once again visited by Draco. This time, the boy with a dashing smile now has a blemish on his cheek and looking livid. She asked what had happen and the blonde Slytherin scowled.

"He did not like your response." Was all he said before he went straight to the sofa he sat on yesterday. His brow shot up when he saw the envelope he gave the brunette, untouched and gathering dust. "You did not open it." He pointed out and got a nod from Hermione. "Why?"

Hermione scrunched her nose. After drinking a whole bottle of brandy, she had forgotten all about it after passing out. "I don't want it."

Draco couldn't believe what he heard. The envelope contained something of value to the brunette. Something valuable to… He shook his head. To hear that Hermione doesn't want it- "I don't understand. It's-"

"Yes Malfoy, you don't understand. None of you will ever understand." Hermione' anger slowly risen at the thought of people trying to understand her situation. The Tributes' situations. There are those who have overcame their experience and lived a normal life; some even sought for revenge to the capital; but her? She was different. Thus nobody, capital or rebels, understood her.

Draco glowered at the brunette. The pain on his cheek and Hermione's stubbornness was not sitting well in him. "Bullshit! You are bloody running away! You are worse than Potter." He sneered. "At least glasses boy was brave enough to make a move and  _disappear_. _"_  He said as if knowing where Harry Potter is. "But you? Time stopped in your head. While you think that time has stopped, the world keeps moving. Wake up Granger, time can never stop for anyone. Even for you." He said and looked at Hermione who now looked furious.

An angry Hermione is not to be messed with. Draco learned it the hard way before and once again he was getting a refresher.

"You sniveling ferret!" Hermione roared and grabbed the nearest thing beside her, a pen, and darted it towards Draco's direction. It was sheer luck of the blonde boy or Hermione's intention of missing, that the pen missed the blonde's head by a few inches and pierced the wall clock above the fireplace. The pen wedged between the seconds hand and the minute hand, stopping the movement of the clock hands. "Time stopped? Who do you think is to blame? Why do you even think I cannot stand being in that pathetic capital?" she took another item beside her, a book, and threw it to Draco, missing him once again and landing on the fireplace. A waste of good book.

"Now Gran-Whoa!" a pitcher flew past his head, hitting the wall and making a crashing sound. "Calm down you twit! You shouldn't make so much noise! Not to mention make it sound like you're killing someone!" he bellowed. But he was not heeded by the angered blonde.

"Killing someone? Oh I will kill someone!" Hermione now picked up an empty flower vase and raised it above her head to throw it to Draco, not intending to miss this time, when the item was taken from her and she was suddenly speared to the ground by a heavy mass. She tried to squirm, fight back, but the one pinning her down was stronger and bigger than her. One of Draco's bodyguards. "Malfoy! I'm warning you!" she growled, eyeing the scowling blonde.

"Crabbe! Goyle! What's the meaning of this?" Draco demanded. "We did not come here to make Granger think she will be raped."

The one not pinning Hermione, Gregory, shrugged. "SHE'S here." He grunted, pointing the rounding I.S outside the Tribute's home. Hearing how Gregory put stress on the term 'she', Hermione stopped her fidgeting and Draco stiffened, scowl still in place.

"Why the hell are they here?" Hermione hissed. She twisted her body to face the big brute on top of her and glared at him intensely. "Move away from me or you'll have your weight lessened within the minute and find your guts on the ground." It was threat that Vincent knew she would do it. That and the glint of metal from underneath Hermione's hand, a blade, convinced him that she is dangerous. In an instant, the burly guard moved away from her and she stood up, dusting away the dirt from her clothes and placing the blade on top of the table beside her.

"I'm here for that reason and not to persuade you again, not today at least. It seems that the capital received word that a rebel group was being formed around these parts and would like to 'kill the weed' before it spreads out." Draco explained. "So I'm here to make sure YOU don't do anything stupid."

This made Hermione stiffen.  _'The boys!'_

Her mind was racing.

If the I.S were to know about her friends' involvement in the uprising rebellion, they will be whipped. Worse if the head of the I.S is present then it will be lashes to death. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, fear now filling her chest.

"Good thing that Umbridge isn't here. But even if she is, I need to make sure that you are not to be touched. Father does want you to be alive. There are some of the I.S that does not favor your winning and not afraid to plan out an accident for you." Draco went back to his seat and then eyed the envelope again. "Just relax for a bit until they clear out. I, being here, will make those idiotic brutes think I'm once again persuading you and leave you alone."

Hermione eyed Draco cautiously. "Why are you helping me?" she inquired, making her way to the empty sofa adjacent from Draco.

The blonde smirked, wincing a bit due to the pain in his cheek. "Let's just say, I'm glad that the Jabber jays mated with the Mocking birds." He answered.

The brunette always wondered why Draco always insisted to be the one dealing with her than her father lately. Why he did not put up another 'I'll tell my father about this!' tantrum and just conversed with her like he was a friend. As if he would ever be her friend. She eyed him carefully, watching any unusual movement from him.

At the side, Hermione's also worried about her friends. Harry and the Weasley family. Her parents are safe since no one would touch the most renowned dentists in Gryffindor so her worries lies more on the boys, Ginny and Molly.

The 'what if's' bombarded her mind and she hoped that no one would be caught by the I.S.

Then the speakers outside her house, all surrounding the district, made a loud feedback. Her heart suddenly pounded hard and fast. It was the same feeling like in the games.

**_"Hem, hem…"_ **

"I stand corrected." Draco mumbled upon hearing the very famous lines of the head of the I.S.

Hermione paled. Hearing those two words- those two familiar disrupting words we're enough to strike fear in the hearts of the weak willed people. Her included. That is, until she  _won_  the games. "That toad is here…" She whispered, getting a weak smile from Draco and grunts from his subordinates.

**_"To all Gryffindor residences, you are requested to be present at the district square for a public execution."_ **

Draco rolled his eyes at how the High Inquisitor sounded excited at prosecuting someone. Hermione on the other hand went rigid and paled. Someone will be executed. Someone suspected to be a member of the order. Without thinking, she bolted right up and ran to the square, Draco and his goons following behind her and yelling her name. She hoped that it was not someone she's closed to.

Oh how she was wrong.

In the middle of the district square, girl with a red hair and tattered clothing was tried on a post and forced to kneel on the ground. The said girl, head lowered and hair covering her face like a curtain, was someone Hermione recognized. There were only two people with red hair that resides in Gryffindor and the on tied to a post is the younger of the two.

Ginny Weasley; the only daughter and youngest of the Weasley siblings. Hermione's only female friend.

Her exposed back was facing everyone and her growls was loud enough for everyone to hear. By the corners of the now crowding area, the Weasleys were being restrained by different people to stop them from rushing to aid Ginny; all Hermione could recognize as an Order member. Gryffindor is a quiet district but majority of the people are secretly members of the Order of the Phoenix.

This boiled Hermione's blood. Seeing the exposed and freckled back of her friend and tied to a post while an I.S is positioned next to her holding a whip, made her see red. It didn't help either that the pink toad, pink devil or the demoness incarnate dressed in pink I.S uniform was smiling at everyone like she was waiting to be crowned 'miss congeniality'.

The said woman is the head of the Inquisitorial Squad, Dolores Umbridge.

"I have been informed that this lady-" Umbridge pointed at Ginny who was growling by the pole. "Is a part of an organization set to usurp our dear Ministry." She continued with a displeased tone.

There was a snarl from the youngest Weasley again and protests from the people around them. Hermione being one of those who protested.

Approaching the white-suited I.S, Umbridge lifted her hand and asked for the whip from the white-suited I.S. This caused some scuffle with a few groups - mainly from the Weasleys and a disguised Harry.

As if knowing the whole ordeal, Umbridge smiled wider and faced the back of Ginny Weasley. "To ensure that everyone is clear on how we see such rebellious acts, a hundred lashes are in order." She said, sounding happy at what she was about to do. Lifting the whip up and readying to strike the back of the redhead. "Tell me little girl, where are the other members of your rebellious group?" She asked with a smile that the spectators thought as sickly sweet.

"I do not know what you are talking about!" Ginny replied, eyes shut forcefully.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Young girls like you should not tell lies." Umbridge flicked her wrist sharply causing a loud scream from Ginny as the whip came in contact with the bare flesh. "Now, why don't you say 'I must not tell lies' and point me to the leader of this-" She looked around for any sign of retaliation from the group of spectators. "Rebellion that I have heard of." She continued, readying the whip once again.

But Ginny stayed firm and refused to say what Umbridge wanted her to say and denied any alliance with a rebel group. Her response gained her another strike on her back, making her body to jerk and her lips to let out another pained growl. Everyone around them are well-aware that Ginny was holding her tears by the looks of her eyes being forced to close and the gritting of her teeth. Her pained moans were enough for people around them to start whispering and slowly expressing their anger towards the pink-suited I.S who continued to look at the wounded back of Ginny with glee.

Hermione's eyes went wide upon hearing the hurt in Ginny's howls. Her heart pounded as her eyes trailed on the black whip leaving gashes on the skin of her friend and how Ginny forced herself not to cry at each strike. It was bad enough to see grown men and women undergo such punishment but the likes of Ginny- Her body tensed and planned on stopping the pink toad, but she was suddenly pulled back by a strong grip to her right wrist that stopped her attempt. She did not heed any attention to the one who stopped her and angrily watched how the pink suited woman raised the whip again and whipped Ginny after refusing to comply with her demand and to admit she is a part of a rebellion.

Hermione knows that Umbridge's accusations are true. That Ginny is a part of the rebel group. But none of them, the rebels, will admit that they are. She knows because Ron and Harry told her that that all members have sworn to secrecy.

The echoing crack of the whip and the pain mixed with anger howl from the redhead was enough for Hermione's blood to boil and her courage that once risen during the Games, filling her chest. She struggled harshly to be released, tugging her arm from the strong grip on her wrist. When another whipping was about to be inflicted to Ginny, she could not take it any longer. She pulled her arm roughly, earning her freedom from her captor and ran towards Ginny, beating another person who was about to do the same as she was thinking. She did not care if she dragged whoever that held her wrist or ran faster than the other person who wanted to help the redhead since her mind was filled with saving her friend.

"Stop!" She yelled, standing between Ginny and the confused looking Umbridge. She was glad that Ginny held strong, not giving the pink toad the joy of seeing or hearing her cry. No one should give any of the I.S the satisfaction of seeing their weakness.

Umbridge eyed Hermione, not knowing who she is. Her face recovered from shock and a pout. "My dear, please move and let me punish this Ministry traitor." She said firmly, holding the whip high up.

But Hermione stood firmly before the Head Inquisitor. "No. You do not have proof of what you are claiming with this girl and for using such way to force a girl to admit a baseless claim is not the first punishment procedure of the Inquisitorial Squad." She said, faking of not knowing who Ginny is and thankful that she read the law book of the Ministry. Her sight flickered from the whip to the disappointed look on Umbridge's face. She knows that the head of the I.S is aware of such punishments since they are the ones who created them. "You come here, to our district, and accused this girl to be part of an imaginary group. A rebellion to usurp the Ministry? One must be daft to think of that." She said, trying to make her statement convincing enough to make Umbridge think her assumption was wrong. "Gryffindor is a neutral district. If you and your team keep on randomly pulling-"

"This girl is a part of a rebellion." Umbridge cut Hermione off.

"A fictitious group. Unless you present us proof, then there will be indeed a rebellion and the target is not the Ministry but you." Chocolate-brown eyes glared at Umbridge, daring her to make a move.

Everyone around them all raised their hands with the three middle fingers up with the thumb and pinky folded down. A three finger salute. An old gesture that has different meanings. A sign of thanks, a means of admiration, and means of goodbye to someone you love.

Right now, it means thanks to Hermione's intervention.

The head of the Inquisitorial Squad saw the angered faces of the townspeople and their three finger salute. She knows what it means and did not like it one bit. Turning her attention to the cause of the residence's silent defiance, she gripped her whip and swats it towards Hermione's direction, hitting the brunette's cheek and making her head jerk sideward due to force. "You dare question me?" she asked, teeth gritting to keep her anger in check.

The sudden strike caused the people around them to gasp.

Hermione felt the hotness of the pain on her cheek but she gave no sound of pain or showed anything that resembles it from her face. She can feel something wet running down her cheek and she prayed it was not tears.

_"Do not show them pain, my dear. Show them you are in control. That way, they won't have the joy of seeing your weakness and you shall gain trusts of people who will recognize your bravery."_

The sudden recollection of her past made Hermione grit her teeth and looked up to Umbridge, cheek reddening and the flow of wet trail reaching her neck, with eyes burning in anger and challenge. She will not show any Ministry lapdog any weakness. "I am not questioning you. I'm merely pointing out your unjust behavior." She stated.

Umbridge snapped at Hermione's witty remark and decided to whip Hermione once again. The 74th Tribute awaited the strike to fall on her, eyes never leaving Umbridge's, but it never came. She looked at the whip and saw how the end of it was being held back.

"I don't think that would be a good idea miss Umbridge."

Hermione looked at the one who spoke and saw Draco standing behind Umbridge with his goons holding the tip of the whip. She looked at him in confusion, wondering why a man from the Ministry would stop such public execution.

Umbridge faced Draco with a smile to acknowledge his presence. "Mister Draco. I am surprised you are here. Will you kindly have your guards release my whip so that I can teach this child some discipline?" She said with a calm voice.

Draco, dashingly smirking shook his head in disagreement. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to hurt Miss Granger."

"But she is disrupting-"

"Why not let it slide? We do not want my father to know that you have caused the current winner of the 74th games such-" Draco eyed the bleeding gash on Hermione's face. It would leave a bad bruise and a scar if not taken care of. "Mark on her pretty face. My father is fond of Miss Granger here and hurting her because of a false accusation or a hearsay of a non-existent group? I wonder how he will take it." He informed Umbridge with a smug grin.

Being informed of such facts, Umbridge slowly lowered her whip. Her pout was evident as she looked at Hermione and the girl on the post. Her informer indeed gave her a name of a possible rebellious group and a member, but no evidence was given. Merely a name. She scowled and pulled her whip from the grip of Draco's lackey and stuck her head up high to face the residence of the district. "May this be a warning to all of you. The Ministry does not tolerate rebellious acts. Those who do, will be severely punished." She said and left the town square with her team following her.

With Umbridge leaving the scene, all Gryffindor residence went to Ginny's aid. The crowd huddled together to release the youngest Weasley from her restrains and to treat the wound inflicted on her back. Hermione was also to be treated but due to the commotion, she was able to slip away and ran to her small sanctuary.

The Forbidden forest.


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione will always run. But for how long?

Her breathing was harsh and her heart did not slowed down from its fast paced beating. Her heart still pounded like it wanted to jump right out of her chest after facing the pink bitch that is the head of the I.S. She was lucky that her being a winning Tribute helped her stand up to the pink toad and the presence of Draco as well. If not for those two factors, she knew Ginny would not be the only one being whipped until they fall into a comatose state.

Laying in the middle of the forest clearing, she ripped the edge of her left sleeve and dabbed the blood away from her cheek and neck. Each time she placed the cloth on her cheek, she winced in pain. The injury that the whip made on her cheek was deeper than she thought it would be. She wiped the blood again and the stinging pain made her cringe and with it, a memory fluttered in her mind about being injured.

**[ _Flashback_ ]**

It was her second day in the capital’s training room where all Tributes were asked to train before the Games. She looked around, alone, and tried each and every available training equipment – aside from archery – presented to her, ignoring her co-tribute. Even if she is from Gryffindor, she did not acknowledge her co-district Tribute. It was plainly because she does not like his idiotic tendencies and temper. Like her, the blonde Tribute came from an influential family in Gryffindor and unluckily chosen to be Tribute.

During her rounds, she heard a pained yelp and the sound of metal slicing off cloth and she immediately turn to check on it.

At the other corner of the training room, inside a drawn rectangular plane, are two Tributes, both of the same region – Sylph, and wearing fencing outfits. The female tribute was wearing a black ensemble while the male was wearing white.

The ripping sound came from the sabre of the white-suited fencer that slashed the neck part of the black-suited fencer. After the said strike, the one in black countered, lunging towards the white fencer who failed to parry the attack. The sabre of the black fencer was pointed at the middle of the white-suited fencer’s chest. With such attack, the white suited fencer conceded, dropping the sabre to the floor. The two stood up straight and bowed to each other, before leaving the rectangle drawn plane and headed to the nearby bleachers.

Hermione watched the black-suited fencer, knowing who she is, with interest in her eyes. She knows how the black-suited fencer was possibly cursing under her mask for wearing such dark colored uniform and being hit by her opponent, even if the said opponent is from Sylph as well and the damage was merely a scratch. She smirked at the thought of how the high and mighty woman was grazed by an attack after boasting that no one can touch her during the Games. She watched how the mask was removed, revealing the beautiful face with short messy platinum blonde hair of the fencer and found herself staring at those sky-blue eyes yet again. Her eyes trailed down to the neck of the blonde and found a four inch cut that’s starting to bleed. Though injury may be small, she’s still worried about the well-being of the blonde.

Staring at the said injury, she saw the slight trail of blood trickling down from the fencer’s neck and saw how the blonde wiped the blood away from her neck using her thumb and seductively licked it and then winked at her. Never did Hermione felt aroused over such teasing actions in her life. Leave it to the blonde to make her feel disoriented every time their eyes meet.

Then after their training, they were all called to have lunch with everyone. A very stressful task since all of them are dining in one long table and the blonde Sylph Tribute sitting beside her. It was like having the ‘Last Supper’ before an execution and the executors are they themselves.

By the corner of her eye, she noticed the bandage on the Sylph’s female Tribute’s neck and wondered why it was bandaged than healed by the capital’s doctors. But she chose not to voice out her concern and focus on her meal while reading a book about the capital.

“You find a book needing your attention more than my injury?” The blonde Sylph Tribute whispered to Hermione. “That is a bit hurtful my dear. I am physically hurt.”

She turned to the blonde beside her and looked her sky-blue colored eyes weakly. She informed the blonde that it was merely a scratch than an actual life-threatening wound. “You will not die with only that. The blade was clean enough for you to avoid tetanus infection.

“Then will you worry about me if it was? More than a scratch that is.”

The question sounded playful; Hermione was sure of it. The blonde always has an unexplainable cockiness that somehow, she can’t deny that the Tribute can back it up. She ignored the blonde once again to focus on her book. But she wondered… how she will react if the blonde was indeed fatally wounded.

The Sylph Tribute, left hand under the table, placed her hand on top of Hermione’s right thigh and gently squeezed it.“If you are to be hurt, my dear, I’ll make sure that it is treated immediately. Be it a scratch or a life-threatening wound. And those who cause such injury will pay.”

**_[End of flashback]_ **

 She remembered how the Sylph Tribute’s tone was deathly serious when she said those words. It was like a promise that will forever be kept.

Snapping back to her senses, she laughed dryly at the memory of the Sylph Tribute protecting her. How she made sure her wounds are treated immediately and the other Tributes that targeted her have been pushed away. She pulled the ripped cloth from her cheek, flinching at how it stung when the dried blood was stripped off of the wound, and stared at the crimson stain on it. Her blood. Her first wound she got after the Games.

“How could you treat them now huh?” Her dry laughter slowly turned to sobs. “How will you protect me… if you are already gone…” she cried softly, pressing the bloodied cloth over her wound and remembering the gentle caress of a certain Tribute’s hand on her cheek..

Her sobbing then stopped when she noticed something she couldn’t believe was possible outside the Games arena. She had to rub her eyes off of her tears and shake her head to ensure she was not dreaming at what she was seeing.

A small package tied to a silver silk parachute was slowly gliding down to her like the sponsor donation in the Games.

When the small item landed on her belly, she quickly sat up and looked around for any signs of life or electronics. Her mind raced on the possibility of people knowing she was going through the fence and inside the Forbidden Forest. Even if she was a winning Tribute, she knows that even Lucius would not look kindly at her actions.

With her senses and guard on full alert, she eyed the package that’s now on the ground and poked on it cautiously with a stick she picked up beside her. She doesn’t want it blowing on her face if it was a trap. After a few prodding and shaking, she assumed that the item was not booby-trapped and proceed to open the lid. Opening the small container, smelled a very familiar scent.

The scent of the expensive medicine that was once used on her wounds during the games entered her nose. She tilted her head, a gesture of curiosity, and examined the contents by touching the salve and carefully comparing it to memory. The smell, texture and even the color are the same one as the medicine she took before.

“Bloody hell…” She whispered. She never heard of sponsor gifts being sent after the Games. It was unheard of and she was sure it was not Draco who sent it or her friends since nobody knows she goes to the Forbidden forest. She pondered on who could’ve sent the medicine to her.

Then the ache on her cheek reminded her need of the medicine and immediately applied it on the bloodied gash on her cheek.

The menthol in the medicine relaxed her body and she slowly lay back down on the ground and looked at the blue sky with a relieved sigh.

The salve did wonders on the pain, reducing it to mere itchiness and she was sure it was slowly healing her wound. The soothing feeling was slowly lulling her to sleep and she did nothing but to fall under its spell.

_“Figurez you’ll be ‘ere again. ‘Unting?”_

_“Not that concerns you.” Silence. “What happen to your left eye?”_

_“No’zing. I Waz carelez”_

_"Figures…”_

_The girl from the other side of the forest quirked a brow at what she said. As if asking her why she said it._

_“You look soft, I guess. Not that I'm surprised. You are from Sylph. You don’t know hardship and what it takes to survive”_

_“I dizagree to ‘zat.” Pout. “Not all from Zylp’ eez weak.”_

_“If you say so.” Looks at the blackened eye. “You should put ice on that.”_

_“Do you ‘ave any?” Silence. “Figu-‘ey!”_

_“Come with me and shut up.”_

_She pulled the blonde to a nearby lake._

_“’mm never been to ‘zese partz of ‘ze woodz. W’at are we doing-“_

_She then dunked the head of the one with a black eye and let it stayed underwater for a good five second before pulling it up. The girl with a black eye started coughing out the water she swallowed and complaining in French as she wring her hair and remove the water from it._

_“Oh don’t be a baby. The cold water won’t kill you.”_

_Ocean blue eyes glared at her, still wringing her hair off of the lake water._

_“My maman will be furious! Eet eez like being killed azwell!”_

_She laughed at how the blonde girl with ocean blue eyes got mad at her. But it was worth it after seeing that the black eye got a quick cold compress. It was a start of remedying the injury. She then took out her handkerchief and dunked it in the water and once it was cold enough, she took it out and placed it above the black eye of the blonde._

_“The birds would be sad if you don’t sing because of a stupid black eye.”_

_“You are bozy, mon amie.”_

_She was about to retort at the insult the blonde told her when she was cut off by a giggle._

_“I don’t mind eet one beet.”_

_The childish smile made her feel like butterflied began to swarm in her stomach and her face staring to heat up._

_“I ‘zould go. Before maman looks for me. And you ‘zould go back too.”_

_“You should have that check you know. Or be careful next time.”_

_“Next time, I’ll prove to you ‘zat I am not soft.”_

_“Wait! My… Handkerchief… Oh nevermind.”_

Hermione groaned when she felt a surge of pain running all over her body like lightning. She shot up and cupped the source of pain which is her cheek and felt debris of stones and dirt around it.

Though the wound is gone, not feeling the gash anymore, there is still the matter of her cheek bruising. She snarled at the pain she felt when she poked her cheek after realizing she must’ve turned and hit her bruised cheek on a sharp rock.

Breathing heavily, she looked around her surroundings and found that she has been sleeping in her secret spot for more than an hour considering it was already dusk. She dusted off the dirt from her clothes, tucking the bloodied ripped cloth in her pocket and hiked back to the Gryffindor district with a relaxed feeling.

Back at her house, she was not surprise seeing her friend and former winning Tribute, Harry Potter, waiting for her by the door.

The bespectacled boy, dubbed as ‘the boy who lived’ was leaning by her doorpost with a worried look on his face.

Harry was dubbed as ‘the boy who lived’ due to the seventy-second games. It was an all-out war in the Cornucopia, leaving him the only Tribute alive with only a lightning bolt scar on his forehead and fastest Hunger Games in history.

Hermione eyed him curiously, thinking if his visit was to check on her well-being or another visit to recruit her.

“Hi love, you doin’ okay?” Harry asked worriedly. His bright green eyes focused on Hermione’s cheek.

The brunette shrugged. “I’ve been in worse. This is a sudden visit. You wanna come in?” she offered, opening the door to her home.

Compared to Ron, Hermione prefers Harry’s visits as the dark haired boy chooses his words carefully and the mutual experience with the Games.

With Harry now seated by one of the stools by the island counter and Hermione preparing both of them tea, they savored the serene silence between the two of them. Hermione have known Harry for as long as she have known Ron. Far too long to even remember how or when they became friends. The three of them attended the same school and ended up as classmates for the longest time. She has been the motherly figure within their group as both Harry and Ron always ended up in different kinds of predicament. From being chased by angry miners after sneaking in the coal mines to being caught by their parents for selling copied homework from her.

Those were the quiet times in their lives. That is until Harry became the 72nd Hunger Games Tribute and won.

“How’s Ginny?” Hermione asked, back facing Harry as she prepared their tea. She heard a shuffle from behind and was certain that Harry did not like what happen in the plaza. Harry was the other person who ran to save Ginny whom she passed and beat to the punch.

“She’s…”

Hermione could hear Harry’s voice cracked.

“She was treated as soon as that demoness left.” The boy who lived said with a hint of anger in his tone. His hands balled up and shaking in anger.

Hermione knew why Harry was furious. The ginger is his girlfriend and seeing her being tortured was enough for him to snap and run after her. But she got to Ginny first and was glad she did since she didn’t trust Harry’s temper if he was to face the pink toad.

Hermione finished preparing the tea and turned around to face her friend who has a seething look. She placed the teacup down before him and she seated at the empty stool adjacent to Harry, cradling her own teacup to warm her hand. “I can assume that Mrs. Weasley was furious.”

“She was. Took Ron, the twins and Arthur to stop her from marching to the I.S building and rampage.” Harry told his friend with a gloomy look. He took a few sip of his tea, chamomile, and then looked at Hermione and her bruised cheek. His head tilted to the side, wondering why there was no wound on his friend’s cheek. He was sure that Umbridge drew blood from the brunette. “Your wound-”

The brunette stiffened. She could not tell her friend that she received some medicinal salve to treat her wounds. She knows it would raise suspicion to her, even if the person who hears is it her friend. “I have some medicine for wounds from the Ministry before. Used it when I left the square.” She lied, hoping the glasses boy to believe her.

Harry eyed Hermione and nodded, believing what she said. “I see. I still have some from them too, when I won that is, and gave it to Mrs. Weasley to treat Ginny.” He slumped down to the table and sighed heavily. “What I don’t understand is how that pink toad knew of the meeting today.” He mused, tracing the rim of his teacup using his index finger.

Now this surprised Hermione. “The rebels are here?”

“Yeah. Our commander came here with me and Ginny to survey the status of our district.” Harry looked at Hermione, chin resting on the table. “Well the commander almost jumped in the fray too; if not for the assigned bodyguard.”

Hermione always wondered who lead the rebels. All she heard is that the person is called as ‘Commander’ and only that. No pronouns and even facial definitions. She placed her teacup down and asked her friend about the rebel commander, hoping to know more about the said leader.

“I dunno ‘Mione. The commander makes sure that no information goes out about the group and the commander. The bodyguard makes sure those who squeal, will be dealt with. Heck in my team, I’m the only one who saw the commander face to face.”

“I see. Do you think this commander of yours can overthrow the Ministry?”

Harry shook his head and drank the remaining contents of his cup. Emptied, he pushed it towards Herimone, silently requesting to be refilled. “To be honest? No. Our commander alone cannot do it. That’s why we are there in support. You should see how tactical the commander is!” He grins. “I bet the commander will stand toe-to-toe with you in battle of wits.”

This made Hermione quirk her brow. Someone who will go against her intellectual capability? It made her curious even more. “Is that right? I doubt it Harry. Not even those from Ravenclaw can outwit me, and that’s a fact.”

The boy who lived grinned wider. “Trust me. The commander bested the whole scholars of a region in terms of chess. Even Ron admits that he can’t beat the commander.”

Hermione furrowed her brows and eyed Harry, wondering if what he is saying is true. Then she noticed the glint in Harry’s eyes. “Harry, if you are baiting the intellect of this commander of yours to have me join your rebel group then…” she poured Harry another cup of tea and pushed it towards the bespectacled boy, making a few of its contents splashed to him. “No.”

Harry’s grin fell and he looked at his cup with a frown. His attempt to recruit Hermione failed once again. “C’mon love. Ron and I have been trying to persuade you to join. We both know how you hate the Ministry and the Games. If you want reason then that’s one of them.”

Hermione finished her cup and pushed it aside. Harry is right. If finding a reason to hate the Ministry and join the rebel group, she has tons of it. But she doesn’t need to be involved again. She’s afraid that what she will be doing with the rebels will add to her nightmares. Ministry or rebels, lives will be at stake and she doesn’t want to take another life again.

She kept her silence.

The dark haired boy sighed heavily. Hermione’s silence meant she does not want to talk about it anymore. They stayed silent for a good five minutes when he remembered a recent visitor of his friend. “Heard that Draco Malfoy was here.” Hermione nodded. “What does he want now?”

This reminded Hermione of the envelope she got from Draco. Her sights went straight to the direction of the living room, mind thinking of what could be inside the envelope. She knows it contains something from the capital hence why she hesitated to open it. Sweet words from Lucius, offers by different officials of the Ministry, even wedding proposals from some rich noble. The last one made her cringe whenever she thinks of it. She can’t give her heart to anyone. Not if it is already dead along with the one who claimed it long before anyone else.

“He left an envelope.” She trailed off. “I didn’t open it yet.”

“Why not just burn it?”

Yes, it was a possible solution. Burning it without knowing the contents. But when she finally thought of it, she felt her heart twinge. The same feeling she once felt when she wanted to end her life and failed miserably. Then she remembered how Draco was enraged when she did not open the letter, as if it was very important. She took it as a warning. “I can’t… I feel like I need to at least know the contents.”

Harry reached out and placed his hand above his friend’s. “Then open it. If it is another letter from the Ministry, those trash letters with sickly sweet words, I’ll burn it myself.” He offered, showing a lazy grin.

Hermione nodded her head and went to the living room to fetch the letter, Harry following behind her. Upon picking it up from the table, she felt some weight from the envelope, sliding at the dangling edge and making a soft shackling sound. Like small chains. Raising her brow, she ripped the end of the envelope and peeked inside.

Chocolate brown eyes lay upon a golden item inside and gasped. She saw a very familiar item that she thought she had lost during the Games.

Her eyes glistened in tears as she slid the item to her left palm. A golden necklace with a small hourglass at the middle.

_“I need to leave.”_

_“Oh. Is it that time already? I didn’t notice since I’ve been hunting deers.”_

_“Non, mon trésor. Eet eez not ‘zat kind of leave. My family…”_

_She noticed the seriousness in the blonde’s tone._

_“We need to move away for a w’ile. Maybe a year or two.”_

_She felt her heart break. The blonde occupied a space in her heart by the short time they have been together. Seeing each other. But now…_

_“Oh…” Her voice cracked and tears involuntarily escaped her eyes. “I-I see. Well, if that is what your family wants.”_

_The blonde nodded, not looking at her. “I tried to azk eef I can ztay. But ‘zey inzizted. Je suis désolé ma chérie.”_

_She could only nod while letting out soft sobs. Her bushy hair restricted her vision and suddenly felt something cold touch her nape and dangle around her neck. Wiping the tears away, she saw a necklace around her neck and looked at the blonde._

_“Eet eez a c’arm. ‘Zere is a my’z about ‘zat necklace but a story for ano’zer time. Once we meet again, oui?”_

_She nodded her head and clutched the pendant in-between her hands._

_“W’ile I am away, I’ll learn proper Anglais ‘zo ‘zat I won’t appear az funny to you.” The blonde girl grinned._

_“Idiot. You don’t need to improve your English. You already know enough and your accent is-“_

_Her words were cut off when she felt a pair of wet lips over hers._

_“Adieu, mon bien-aimé.”_

_The blonde left her in the middle of the forest, dazzled and heart pounding like crazy. She slowly raised her hand and touched her lips, feeling like they are burning from how the Sylph resident’s lips touched it. Her lips twitched, forming a smile due to the fluttering feeling all over her body._

_“Until we meet again.”_

“Leave.” Hermione said, voice frigid as ice. Her eyes glared at the item in her hand like it was an enemy Tribute needing to be killed. By the corner of her eyes, she saw Harry did not move from his spot. She knows he would not leave her after telling him to leave.

Pocketing the said trinket, Hermion bolted out of her house, leaving the dark haired boy behind. She has a good three minutes before Harry came to his senses and follows her. She cannot be followed. Not because of her escapades in the Forbidden Forest but because of the trinket.

She ran to the steel chained fence, ducked under the bush hiding a clipped opening and dashed to the forest, towards her secret spot. Her tears streamed down her eyes and loud sobs echoed in the forest. She’ll face the I.S or any rabid animals, but she can’t face her fears and nightmares. She can’t face the source of all the pain in her heart and tears to her eyes.

Hermione ran. Fast and dodging each obstacle carefully and skillfully. She just want to be in her secret spot to clear her head once again or dump her head in the water to cool it off.

The brunette rushed to the said place but when she was a meter away from it, something caught her body and covered her head with something that rendered her blind to her surroundings. She then felt a thick rope being wrapped around her waist, arms included, and she continued to struggle violently. She screamed and kicked at whoever was trying to capture her even with her sudden adrenaline rush after finding out what was inside the envelope, her struggling was in vain. Who or what caught her was stronger than her. A rough jab on her stomach made her balk and let out a breathy pained groan, slowly making her lose consciousness.

“Sorry mate. But the commander needs you now.” She heard the rough whisper to her ear and pulled her limped body up.

Last thing Hermione could hear was the whistling of a tune she knew so well. A tune that she could never, ever forget no matter how hard she tried. And with it, she felt her body relaxing, as if the tune is a sedative lullaby.


	4. Kidnapping? Really?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's been kidnapped! Now, the questions are... Who took her and where did they take her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We would like to thank those who have given a few minutes of time to read and review our story. :) To those who are wondering who the blonde female Tribute is, soon okay guys? Anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

_“Is it true that you volunteered for your little sister?” she asked._

_“That’s a sudden question. One I’m not sure if you are sleeping when the whole Midgard are showing the Reaping of each districts.”_

_She pouted and crossed her arms. The female Sylph Tribute has a look of shock on her face when she asked about volunteering to take someone’s place. It was possible but she heard that the blonde Tribute volunteered as soon as the name of the one whom their district escort announced._

_“I was minding my own business that time. If you don’t want to tell, then don’t. I was just curious.”_

_She was about to leave, angered at the blonde, when she was pulled back and engulfed into a warm hug._

_“Apologies. I was caught off-guard.”_

_The hug tightened and she felt the blonde hung her head over her shoulder. All she could do was to suppress the blush that’s threatening to color her face._

_“To answer your question, yes I did. I just can’t imagine my little sister to be in this barbaric death sentence.”_

_She nodded her head, understanding the blonde’s reasoning. If she has a little sister or brother and unfortunately picked for the Hunger Games, she’ll volunteer to take his or her place. It was a noble act. One that fits the blonde Tribute._

_“My dear?”_

_It was an endearment she can’t shake. The blonde never ceased to use any endearment terms to her. She let out an ‘hmm’ reply, snuggling close to the blonde’s warm embrace._

_“May I have a kiss?”_

_Three days. It has been three days since she met the blonde and so far she’s used to her flirting ways. The request caught her by surprise but she did not push away from the blonde. She places her hands atop the pale hands of the blonde and gently squeezed them. She leaned her head back a bit, gaining visibility of the blonde’s beautiful face, a side of it that is, and she deviously smiled._

_“A kiss?”_

_The blonde nodded with a sweet smile._

_“Ye-“_

_Before the blonde could finish her answer, she placed a quick kiss on her smooth cheek and slipped away from the startled Tribute and walked towards the exit of the garden with a skip in her step and giggling at her triumphant action. But before she was able to turn the doorknob of the door, she found herself being turned around and pushed to the door and a growl following suit.  She was about to protest when her lips was silenced by a rough kiss from the Sylph Tribute. She struggled for a second before she felt the slowing pace of the kiss and melted into the arms of the Tribute._

_It lasted just a minute before the blonde stopped for air; panting heavily with a lazy grin on her face._

_“That… should be my good luck for tomorrow, my dear.”_

_The blonde surprised her with the said kiss and she has to admit it was a mindblowing one. She breathed heavily, catching her breath that was taken by the blonde. The blonde then leaned towards her and gave her a quick peck on her lips._

_“May the odds be ever in your favor… Hermione.”_

_The blonde smiled hauntingly at her and the next thing she could see is the corner of those luscious lips showing a trail of blood. Her vision shifted to the whole body of the blonde, dressed in her Tribute outfit, with a hole in her stomach._

_“Her…mio-“_

“-ne! Hermione! HERMIONE WAKE UP!”

Startled, the sleeping brunette shot up from a fluffy bed and grabbed the nearest thing she could hold and hurled it towards the direction of the voice. She heard a loud ‘clang’ and then followed by a pained howl and a set of laughter.

“BLOODY FUCKING HELL! AM I BLEEDING!? TELL ME I’M NOT! DON’T YOU GRIN LIKE THAT KRUM! AND DON’T LAUGH!”

“Heh. Can’t help it mate; that was one swift move.”

“I knew ‘Mione has a good throwing arm.”

Hermione, not used to many people making noises in her room, growled and took the next thing she can hold and hurled it to the direction of the noises. There were laughing once again and a deep grunt. She recognized three out of the four noises came from her friends. Harry, Ron and Ginny.

 Forcibly opening her eyes, she glared at her noisy friends and loudly growled at them. “If any of you twits find the time to consider that someone is trying to sleep, then please don’t let me stop you.” she yelled angrily.

Ron, cradling the right side of his temple, frowned at the brunette. “Now you decided wake up? You threw an alarm clock at me and only a pillow to Viktor?”

The irritated woman growled menacingly and threw the white fleece blanket away from her body and stepped down from the king size bed. Her bare feet touched the velvet cashmere with intricate design, giving her a cool and comfortable feeling unlike her flat in the Victors’ Village. Her chocolate brown eyes groggily looked around and found something amiss.

Her room at the Victors’ Village was not cream color with golden designs.

There were no expensive looking furniture, hi-tech electronics, and beautiful rare paintings in her house.

And her room definitely does not smell like blueberries and waterfalls.

Her eyes snapped wide open, grogginess washed away, and looked at her friends and the extra person in horror. Her friends who are part of the Order of the Phoenix.

Then she remember her last memory being kidnapped and connected it with the several persuasion of her friends to join the Order.

“You…” Hermione’s voice was deadly and her eyes narrowed at his two best male friends.

Harry and Ron both backed up while Ginny stayed rooted on her spot. Between Harry and Hermione, two Tributes of the Hunger Games, Hermione’s anger is not to be taken lightly. And oh how angered she looked at the two boys.

“Now-“ Ginny was about to stand in-between Hermione and the two Gryffindor-born boys when she was pulled aside by the burly man dressed in a blood-red uniform just in the nick of time. Hermione lunged herself forward, spearing her two friends down to the carpeted floor, knocking the air out of their lungs.

“How could you two do this to me!?” Hermione said in anger, ruffling the collars of her shocked male friends. “Tell me who ordered to kidnap me!?” she demanded, roughly tugging her friends’ collars.

It was Ron who first recovered from the sudden attack and tried to pry Hermione’s hand from his collared shirt. The brunette’s grip on his shirt was tight and almost choking him. “’Mione! We-don’t-know!” he said in-between wheezes.

“Yeah mate!” Harry piped in, trying to pry Hermione’s grip away from his shirt like Ron. A victor he may be but he lack skill in escaping under such circumstances. “We swear we have nothing to do with it! We just got word that you’re here!”

The brunette released her two friends and stood up. She still can tell if her boys are lying and right now, despite their annoying attempts of making her join the Order, they are telling the truth. She needed to escape. It was the only thing in her mind right now. Hermione looked around and then noticed her slim chance of escape after examining the whole luxurious area. Not because of the room, no it was pretty easy to escape such room; the reason for her assessment is the red suited male among her friends which she recognizes.

Viktor Krum.

The burly man with a somber look has an intimidating aura around him.

Being in the Games taught Hermione a few things about sizing up the competition and Hermione can immediately tell that Viktor is a threat. That Viktor Krm is THE threat among the occupants of the room. How his well physique can instantly outrank her in terms of strength and speed; his stoic look making it hard to read his next move; and his overall presence giving a deathly feel to it.

Why wouldn’t it be if the man Hermione is sizing up is another winner of the Hunger Games. The 71st Hunger Games winner.

“I need to leave.” Hermione demanded, testing out if she could escape without force.

Viktor crossed his arms and shook his head. He stood in the way towards the door and looked at Hermione with a steely gaze.

“C’mon ‘Mione. Being here isn’t that bad. You get to have these scrumptious food and everyone treats each other as family. Plus we get to train and be ready to rebel to that disgusting Ministry.” Ginny stated, making a facial expression that can be deciphered as loathing when she spoke of the Ministry.

The Weasley family aren’t a fan of the Ministry despite Percy, one of Ginny and Ron’s older brothers, and Arthur, their dad, works for them. Ron explained that it was a way to spy on them. Those who are not working for the Ministry, works in the mines while Molly, the matriarch of the family, and Ginny help around the Gryffindor district. How they knew about the rebel group, joined even, they never told Hermione.

Hermione shook her head. “This is… This is preposterous! Kidnapping me and imprisoning me?” she faces the older Tribute. “Who orchestrated this? And where the bloody hell am I!?”

The burly man in red grunted. “Commander. Vhere? Classified.” It was all he said, steely gaze not flinching when Hermione glared at him.

Hermione let out a ‘hmp’ and crossed her arms. Her stubbornness that is a known trait of hers who live in Gryffindor district. Then add up of showing her courage, a Gryffindor trait, even before a veteran Tribute that is feared by many. Why wouldn’t the residents of Gryffindor, both men and women alike, be brave if the said district is a district of mining? Anyone would be brave after going inside the dark and endless caves to get whatever minerals they could harvest and sell it or trade it for money or other necessities. “Then let me meet this commander of yours. I’m not siding with you or the Ministry and I’m telling it to your Commander’s face myself!”

But Viktor shook his head. “Commander avay.” His gaze slowly looked bored. “Tvo days.” He said. His thick accent slipping in when he spoke with anything with the letter ‘w’ in it.

The accent reminded Hermione of something – someone – and it immediately made her heart palpitate. She knows the feeling. Her heart racing and pounding like crazy; her breathing hastens as if she is in dire need of air. She staggers backward, tripping at the edge of the bed, making her fall back on it.

_“You must be from Beaubaxton.”_

_“’Ow did you come to ‘zat conclusion?”_

_“Your accent. Only Beaubaxton region uses that old French language.”_

_“A’! Oui. You are perceptive ma cherie.”_

_“No, it’s just the first time we met, you’re blabbering in French and you’re singing in French too.”_

_“’Zen do you like eet? My accent and français?”_

_She just looked at the blonde Sylph resident with a quirked brow and then picked up her bow and arrows, heading deeper in the forest._

_“Maybe…”_

_Her memories scrambled. Changing the scenery from the forest to the gates before the Tributes’ parade. There she saw the Sylph Tribute, dressed in a silvery blue silk body-fitted long-sleeved dress with a small cloak that went down to the mid-riff area, black stockings, silvery blue pointed heeled shoes and matching it off with a short pointy hat that’s tilted to the right. Her hair now short and messy, and looked pissed at the other Tribute beside her. She remembers how the blonde yelled angrily, stomping her expensive looking heels on the floor and grabbing hold of the male Tribute’s collar._

_“Touch me once again and I’ll make sure your fingers accidentally cut off during training!”_

_“But-“_

_“But nothing! You and I are Tributes and even if we belong to the same district, you are still an enemy in my eyes!”_

_She remembers how the blonde spoke in perfect English. Not a speck of French accent in her words at all. Then she remembered that before they separated, three years ago, the blonde promised that she’ll learn proper English._

_“Ow? I spoke in français? Then I’m glad that I got rid of that accent, right?”_

_The blonde winked at her. She blushed but felt that she didn’t like the blonde’s new attitude. How cocky she is and the lack of accent she came to miss. She brushed it off as changes during the times they were separated. Instead of answering, she was pulled back by Cormac, telling her that their mentor need them._

Hermione shook her head violently. The memories flooded her mind like a flashflood and it took all her will power not to scream out loud like she usually does/ The images of the blonde, filling her mind; smiles, pouts, cocky grins, sleeping, calmness, singing to the birds and the bloodied lips. It bombarded her consciousness like a flash flood and she had to grit her teeth in order to hold back her anguished cries.

“Hermione!”

She was not sure who called her name before everything went dark. Opening her eyes, she noticed how the lights of the room are now switched on. She checked the glass door that leads to the balcony and noted that it was already night time. She slowly sat up and winced when she felt a surge of pain on her head. Letting out a soft pained moan, she massaged her throbbing head to ease the pain away. She was having a migraine.

“Medicine?”

A gruff voice interrupted Hermione’s head massage and she looked up to see Viktor looking at her from by the door and arms crossed atop his chest. She nodded silently and the Durmstrang Tribute winner who lifted his hand, wrist bent a little and whispered to it. A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door and Viktor stood from where he sat and pulled the chair away from the door to give space in opening it.

Entering the room is a beautiful woman, not taller than Hermione, carrying a tray that smelled of chicken soup. The woman has short raven hair that’s styled in a wild pixie-like manner, greyish eyes, and wearing a silver-black maid outfit. She smiled at Hermione and placed the tray on top of the bedside table and gestured for her to eat.

Hermione looked at the bowl of chicken noodles, the noodle and smell of chicken made her conclude it is chicken noodles, and then to the girl in a maid outfit. The girl did not speak and merely pointed at the food beside her.

“Food. For medicine.” Viktor answered in behalf of the woman; his back facing Hermione and the maid.

Hermione turned her attention to Viktor watch him open a white box with a red cross at the middle of it and took a small object from it. He then picked up a glass of water beside the box and approached her, face as stoic as ever.

“Eat. Then drink.” He told Hermione, placing a pinkish pill and the glass of water by the tray. He noticed that the brunette looked at the pills skeptically and he cleared his throat. “Medicine. For headache.” He grunted and then pointed at the food. “Medicine too strong. Need food.”

Hermione agreed. She thanked the maid, smiling at her, and took the tray and placed it on the bed. She wouldn’t deny the offered medicine since she feels like her head’s being jackhammered. While eating, she saw how Viktor and the maid interacted by the door. Viktor did not speak and just made hand gestures while the maid nodded and smiled at him before leaving. This left her baffled to why Viktor was making hand gestures and the maid somehow understood it.

That is until she noticed how his hand gestures formed symbols and the maid making her own in response to it.

Hermione realized that the maid is an Avox.

An Avox, as she recalled during her stay in Slytherin, are those who rebelled against the capital. They are punished by the I.S, cutting their tongues, and used as domestic servants in the capital.

To see one outside of Slytherin is a rare sight.

Hermione continued to eat until she emptied the bowl. After finishing her meal, she took the medicine offered to her and popped it in her mouth, washing it down with the water that she drank hungrily. Food and water. She never knew how famished and thirsty she was until her tongue touched the broth of the noodle and the water from the glass.

She stayed silent, leaning on the bed’s backboard and looking at nowhere in particular. Her headache slightly fading, the effect of the medicine, and she finally had a grasp of the situation. Only this time, more calmly. Her chocolate brown eyes traced from the balcony glass doors to the man sitting by the door of the room, Viktor Krum.

“Krum…”

Viktor’s head snaps up and steely eyes gazed at Hermione. “Viktor.” He corrected, tone as gruff as ever.

Hermione nodded, appreciating the first name basis the older Tribute offered to her. “Viktor… About this commander of yours-“ She took a deep breath. “When can I meet this commander?”

Viktor shook his head. “Tvo days. Three if busy.”

“Can you tell me about your commander?”

But the burly man shook his head, silently saying no to Hermione.

Again with the mystery.

The commander of the Order still remains unknown to her. Giving up in knowing who the said leader of the rebels is, she looked around and found another question to ask Viktor. “Where am I?”

“Safe place.”

“Specifically?”

“A room.”

“Specific place of the room?” Hermione’s brow now arched up at the elusive answers of Viktor.

“Not Gryffindor.”

“Where in Midgard?”

“Not Slytherin.”

Again with the evasive answers. It went on and on, until the sun rose up.  She learned a few things from the quiet man despite the few words he gives. She learned that Viktor left his district, Brynhildr, after a commotion in Slytherin and joined the rebels. She learned that he is her assigned bodyguard and tasked to keep her inside the room until the commander arrives. And lastly, she learned that Viktor can smile after she told him about her fascination with cats. The burly man has a weakness in cats like her.

After their lengthy conversation, Viktor stood up from his seat when the device in his wrist beeped. He bowed at Hermione and left her alone in the room. Alone, Hermione tried her luck and went to the balcony door. She took a deep breath and grasped the door handle that felt cold in her palm due to the air-conditioning of the room, and pulled it down. She expected a clicking sound, indicating it is locked, but she instead heard one click and the door loosen in its hinges.

It was open.

Smiling, she opened the glass doors and savored the fresh air that passed her. She rushed towards the edge of the balcony, ignoring the spacious area and the furniture’s around it, and headed at the end of the balcony where the marbled railings barred her walkway, and looked around her surroundings.

The whole place was covered in greenery. Tall thick trees, bushes, some flowers among them, and a wide lawn filled with decorations and even a hedge maze.

Hermione tilted her head examining the whole area. She can escape; she was sure of after a surveying the whole perimeter. She can jump by the ledges sticking out of the walls and jump down, it was a mere few feet drop and no bones would break if she were to slip and fall, and then run to the woods. Slowly, she lifted her right leg up the railing and carefully holstered herself up until she remember what Harry told her.

_“I bet the commander will stand toe-to-toe with you in battle of wits.”_

The mere recollection about how Harry praised their commander’s intellect was enough for Hermione to stop her plans. Someone who will and possibly best her intellect.

“A challenge…” She whispered to no one, smile forming on her lips. A smile she rarely show.

She made up her mind. She’ll wait for the commander and see if the said leader of the rebellion can convince her in joining their group or just a game of wits. “I accept your challenge.”

Hermione went back to her room. The moment she stepped foot inside the room, she jumped back in surprise when she saw Viktor with Ginny and the Avox girl. The Avox maid is carrying a tray of a steamy meal and a pitcher of water, cold due to the water droplets forming and falling at the side of the pitcher; Viktor still silent but now frowning; and Ginny grinning like she won something.

“Pay up Viktor, Amelia. Told you she won’t escape.” Ginny said, holding out her palm to Viktor and the Avox. Hermione then learned that the name of the Avox is Amelia.

Hermione realized what Ginny was saying and put her arms in akimbo with a raised brow as she glared at Ginny. “Really? Gambling? What did you gamble about this time Ginerva?” Ginny, or Ginerva Weasley, visibly shivered at how reprimanding her voice is. She always caught the twins, Fred and George, and Ginny up to something tricky.

Recovering from her sudden shiver, Ginny smirked and winked at Hermione. “We put up bets if you’ll make a run for it or not when Viktor here left you. I voted you won’t while Viktor and Amelia here voted you will.”

Hermione sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Seriously Ginny. Gambling will be one of the reason that will get you in trouble one day.” She said tiredly. After hearing a chuckle from the red-haired girl, she remembered something that she should’ve asked earlier. “Ginny! How’s your back!?” she asked frantically. She rushed to her friend and quickly turned her around and then yanked Ginny’s collar backwards to get a glimpse of her back. She let out a breath of relief when she saw that there are no wounds on her back and merely pinkish marks that replaced the gashes. It was in a healing process, but slower than the one on her cheek.

Ginny pulled herself away from Hermione and cheeked on the brunette’s bruised cheek. “I’m fine ‘Mione! You should check more on your cheek than my back! That’s one nasty bruise!”

The Avox, Amelia, left her position and placed the tray of food on a table by the balcony. Viktor following her action and called for Hermione to tell her about the food Amelia brought.

“Hermy-own…”

Amelia shook her head while Ginny snorted and laughed loudly upon hearing what Viktor just called Hermione.

Hermione stopped what she was doing and turned to Viktor who has a baffled look on his face. Leave it to someone outside the Hogwarts region to have a different way of saying her name.

“Her-my-oh-nee.” Hermione corrected, slowly and hoped that the Durmstrang raised man would get it.

“Herm-own-ninny?”

Ginny snorted.

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Close enough. Anyway, yes?”

Viktor nodded and pointed at the balcony’s direction. “Breakfast.”  He led Hermione and Ginny to the balcony. Amelia did not bother to follow them and excused herself to leave the room.

Hermione looked at what was laid out on the marble table. Food. “Wow… Rations.” She said, voice seeping of sarcasm as she examines each dishes on the table. Well-done steak, mash potatoes, and a stew she recognize as a delicacy of a certain region.

“Eat.” Viktor ushered, pushing an empty plate to Hermione.

Hermione rounded the table where Ginny was already seated and filling her own plate with everything, aside from the stew. The redhead munch on anything her spoon, fork and even her hands laid upon in gusto. Though the redhead did not touched the stew. Viktor did not sit and merely stood before the glass door, arms across his chest and eyes directed at her.

“You should eat ‘Mione! These are superb!” Ginny gestured for Hermione to sit beside her. She then turned to the pot of stew and crinkled her nose. “Why does Amelia keep on serving that stuff? Whatever that stuff is.

Hermione, now seated at the adjacent seat of Ginny and grinned when the redhead finally noticed the stew. “It’s bouillabaisse.”

“Gesundheit.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny’s remark. “No you dolt. It’s the dish which is a specialty of a certain district. Naming…” Her eyes now trailed to Viktor who waited patiently for what she is about to say. “Sylph. We are in Sylph, correct?” She said with a calm smile and taking a sip of the hot coffee that came along with the dishes.

Ginny choked on the mashed potato she just swallowed and hysterically grabbed the nearest water, which is the pitcher of water, and drank its contents to wash down the clog in her throat. Viktor’s brows reached his hairline as he too was surprised at how Hermione guessed where she is by observing the dishes served to her.

“Damn ‘Mione! Couldn’t you at least delay your analysis of your kidnapping? Takes the fun of the whole kidnapping scheme. ” Ginny said after wiping her water off her chin using her sleeves.

“Then that answers my question. Really Ginny, it’s common kidnapping knowledge to don’t put things that would imply where you have taken your hostage out in the open.” Hermione stated in a bored manner. Since she was already a prisoner in Sylph, wherever in Sylph that is, she might as well enjoy what’s in front of her and wait for the said commander. As she cuts the steak, her eyes trailed to the man guarding the door and wondered; why someone from Durmstrang, a region that mainly supports the Ministry, joined the rebels. She watched her intently, curiosity filling up her mind.

“You shouldn’t fall for Viktor.” Ginny whispered, making Hermione’s concentration break and turn to look at her. She was playing with the remaining bone from the steak by swiping it left to right and right to left.

Hermione could not believe what her friend just told her. Sure Viktor’s good looking, for a guy that is, but she just can’t find herself falling for him. Or anyone at all. She glared at Ginny who just shrugged.

“Am just telling you one of the most common things here.” Ginny placed her utensils down. “Viktor’s aloof and usually rejects all love proposals. Rumors here and there sprouted like mushrooms about it. So to avoid future heartbreak-“ Ginny stopped what she was supposed to say after realizing what she was talking about.

But it was too late.

The table suddenly shook violently and the utensils clattered on the floor loudly. Then a loud screech of metal chair legs on the marble that left scratch marks on the marbled floor. Viktor’s grunt could be heard but the next thing the two rebels realized is that both of their sleeves have been nailed to the nearest block of marble by forks. They did not see the swift movement of Hermione, impaling their sleeves on the blocks of marble, and walking past them as if they were not present. The door slammed shut, shaking the frame, and locked the two outside.

“Vat happen?” Viktor asked in disbelief.

Ginny, knowing why Hermione acted as such, frowned and pulled her sleeves off the forks, ripping them in the process. “I said something I shouldn’t have said.”

Viktor tilted his head, hands now free from the dangerous pointy table utensil. “Herm-own-ninny… mad?”

Ginny merely nodded her head. It was a taboo topic within their friendship. The topic that broke Hermione’s own world.

Back inside, the brunette buried herself under the thick covers and pillows, holding back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

She will not cry.

Not anymore.                                    

That’s what she decided a month after the Games.

But no matter how much she willed it; wished for it. Her heart caved in and her tears fell with the thought of a blonde with sky-blue eyes dying before her.

_“I love you Hermione.”_

 


	5. Turn Back Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I mark the hours, every one, nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you, are gauged by what you have to do."

Hermione cried herself to sleep and woke up when she smelled the scent of fresh bread and soup. Slowly, she got up and found Amelia, smiling at her while carrying a tray of food. She yawned and sat up, acknowledging the presence of the woman. Somehow, for an Avox, she feels like if she doesn't eat what Amelia gave her, she will be the one who will be an Avox.

Amelia placed the tray down to the bedside table and sat beside Hermione. She has a soft smile on her face and gestured for Hermione to start eating. The brunette nodded her head and scooted near Amelia, took bread from the tray and began nibbling on it. It was already evening when she woke up. Her eyes feel heavy, as if sleep never left her. Chewing on the bread, her hand was taken by Amelia who gently stroked it. It gave her a comforting feeling.

Then she remembered locking Viktor and Ginny outside the room and asked the Avox about their well-being. Amelia assured her that it was alright after showing her a small video clip from the small digital watch-communicator on her arm of both Ginny and Viktor skillfully climbing down the balcony by going to the ledges. Like the one she planned earlier.

"Ohh there we're cameras there?" Amelia nodded. "I didn't notice them." She felt stupid for thinking that the place she's being held captive has a weak security. Aside from Viktor that is. She felt sorry for locking her friend and Viktor out of the room and forgetting all about it. The bread on her hand crinkled at how her grip tightened when she recalled why she did it.

Amelia placed her hand over Hermione's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was enough for Hermione to be pulled back to reality and just looked at her with a teary expression. She took the bread from Hermione and placed it back on the plate and pulled the brunette into a warm hug while running her hand on her back to soothe her.

Their silent moment was cut short when a knock on the door echoed in the whole room. Amelia smiled at Hermione and silently excused herself to check on who was it at the door. With the Avox away, Hermione placed her hand on her chest and realized that something was missing.

Something important.

"Bloody hell! The necklace!" Hermione shouted, bolting right up and rummaging everything her hand touches. Her eyes wide open for any sign of the golden hourglass pendant as she dug into anything in front of her. She didn't care if she messed up her bed or the drawers or even the table tops. All her mind was focused on was finding the golden trinket that held precious memories to her. "Where the fuck is it!" She growled in frustration, still looking for her jewelry.

"Vat are you lookin' for?"

Hermione immediately recognized the deep voice of Viktor. She twirled immediately and faced the burly man wearing a cream long-sleeved turtle neck shirt with a blood-red insignia of a rising bird on the chest part and black pants that's tucked inside his combat boots with a deep scowl. "Who kidnapped me?" She needed an answer. Whoever kidnapped her must know where her necklace is.

Viktor tilted his head to the side. "Commander?" He answered uncertainly.

But Hermione shook her head. "No! Not the one who plotted this, but the one who kidnapped me. That blighter who socked me good at the stomach and took me here!"

Viktor crossed his arms and furrowed his brows for a few seconds before relaxing his facial features and shoulders. "A Veasley. Not Ron." He said.

Hermione notice how he sounded confused. Well anyone who doesn't know the Weasleys would have a hard time telling them apart. Especially George and Fred. She tried to recall whoever sucker punched her for any distinct Weasley trait. Though with her lack of vision and consciousness at the said time, she can only remember his voice as it was the only thing she could think of in identifying who the kidnapper is. She racked her brain until she remembered how her surrounding didn't sound alarmed when she was taken. As if the animals surrounding the area, birds, small critters, and even some medium-sized mammals didn't squeak about the scuffle. There was only one Weasley that could move without any animals noticing or panicking.

"Charlie…"

With that, Hermione lunged at Viktor, tackling him down to the carpeted floor. Her sudden movements alarmed Amelia a bit but Viktor raising his hand, back of the palm facing Amelia, stopped the worried Avox.

"Where's Charlie Weasley!?" Hermione demanded, gripping on the turtleneck collar of the brawny former Tribute. Her chocolate-brown colored eyes harden as she gripped the collar tightly and pulled it up, making Viktor to crane his neck upward. "Tell me where he is!"

"Guarding forest." Viktor answered.

As soon as Hermione heard his answer, she released her hold on him and dashed towards the open door. She did not even look at her surroundings or those she passed or even bumped by. She even outran Viktor since she got a headstart. Her goal was to reach the wide backyard of where she is being held captive and find Charlie. The sooner she finds the Weasley with the affinity with animals, the faster she can find her necklace.

It took her more than thirty minutes until she found the exit of the large place she was cooped up in. It took more time than necessary since there are people who chased her down and called for her to stop running. She didn't of course and she had to force her way at times in order to find Charlie.

Finding Charlie is crucial to her and now, standing before the large meadow-like backyard, she looked around for any sign of the redhead. Her eyes caught a sight of the redhead Weasley and she once again sprinted off towards the man she needs to interrogate.

It was a wide backyard. Hermione had jogged which she assumes a mile until she finally reached the second oldest of the Weasley siblings.

"Charlie…" Hermione panted, chest heaving heavily as she stood before her suspected captor.

Charlie looked at the panting brunette and beamed a bright smile at her. "Oh! Hey 'Mione! You here to take revenge?" He said, chuckling at the fact that Hermione would really sock him good. "I swear I was just following orders."

Hermione shook her head and slowly regained her calm breathing pattern. She slowly stood up straight and marched forward, closing her distance with Charlie by a foot. The redhead raised his hands in surrender after seeing her glare at him like she will be doing more than punching him in the gut. "Revenge can wait. Where is the necklace I had?"

This left Charlie baffled. His smile dropped and knit his brows. "What necklace?"

"The one I was holding before you-" Hermione clenched her right hand and jabbed it to Charlie's stomach. The Weasley let out a loud groan and fell to his knees. "Delivered an upper cut to my gut. Now where is my necklace?"

"I-don't-know!"

Hermione paled. _'If it is not with Charlie… then that must mean...'_ Hermione's line of sight was set on the entrance of the thick forest. Jumping over the kneeling Charlie, she began running into the woods without thinking of getting lost or worried she might be seen by an I.S.

The Forbidden forest. Hermione was sure she was in the Forbidden forest just by the familiar feeling her surrounding gave her. Now all she needs to do is to find the place where the necklace was dropped. As far as she can remember, she was not that far from the clearing. Behind her, she can hear someone running after her but ignored it. She will not hold back if anyone stops her just to find and acquire the necklace.

She never noticed how long she searched for the clearing. All she knows is that the moment she found the clearing, the moon, a full moon, is at its highest and the stars filled the dark skies. She went down on all fours and started looking for the small trinket.

"Hermy-own…" Viktor's voice sounded meek as he placed a hand over Hermione's shoulder.

"I'll go back, I promise. Just let me find my necklace…" Hermione's voice cracked. She was searching all over the ground, pushing away the dried leaves and the grass but she still can't find the necklace.

"Necklace… This?" the burly man dangled a golden necklace with an hourglass pendant in front of Hermione.

As soon as her eyes were set on the golden trinket, she finally realized that she was crying the whole time as the tears blurred her vision. She shakily took the necklace from Viktor and held it close to her now shaking body. "Thank you… Thank you Viktor…" Hermione cried out.

"That thing… Important?" Hermione nodded. "From lover?"

The brunette didn't answer and only looked at the golden pendant in nostalgia. It is important to her. So important that it can shake the every fiber of her being or bring joy to her whole life. "It was a gift… a very important gift. It's the only thing that kept me sane during the time I was alone in the whole games."

Viktor nodded. "Games…" He breathed out. "Games brought monsters. Tell me?"

"You want me… To tell you about the 74th games?" Hermione asked in surprise. Viktor, standing a few feet away from her, nodded his head silently, eyes gleaming of curiosity. "Did you not watch it?"

Viktor shook his head.

"Even the reruns?"

Again Viktor shook his head. But his face softened and he approached Hermione, his hand placed on her shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze and softly smiled at her. "It will help." He said, assuring Hermione that by telling about the past, she can lessen the burden she's carrying. "You lost… Someone. Ves?"

This time, it was Hermione who nodded. She lifted the necklace hanging around her neck and looked down on the pendant. Her eyes watered, upon remembering the significance of the small trinket. Then she made up her mind. She'll tell Viktor.

"It was a few months ago when I was chosen as the Tribute for the Gryffindor district. My parents were struck with grief. To think, the only child they have, no training about killing will be sent to kill or be killed." Hermione started.

"Vut… Bov and arrov?"

"It was… coincidental. But back to the games, I think it's a typical one from someone like me who have been watching it end up being disgusted at how the Ministry find it amusing. Nothing special at first; Need to win to survive."

Viktor nodded in agreement.

"I was pushed by my mentor to survive. Harry was supposed to be there too but due to his _disappearance_ , McGonagall mentored me and my co-Tribute. I was determined to win, to do everything it takes to keep my life. But I guess fate played a good prank on me by meeting someone from my past."

**[Flashback]**

After seeing the blonde argue with her co-Tribute, Hermione stalked her all the way to the district chariots. She watched in awe, unable to believe that she's seeing the girl in the forest, her  _Veela_.

A Veela, just like in her book about mythological beings of the olden times, is a being of physical beauty. They look like sirens, water beings that lures those who trudge the sea, but their home is in the deepest parts of the forest. Clad with beautiful wings along their arms, talons for fingers, and even voices that sounded so beautiful like hearing an angel, you will be drawn to them immediately. Except from the wings and talons, she called the blonde she usually meet at the Forbidden forest as a Veela since she resembled the said mythical being. Not once did she ask for the blonde's name nor did the blonde asked hers. A precaution in case either of them are caught and interrogated.

And now, she couldn't believe that the Veela is a Tribute of the Sylph district. After years of no communication, approximately five years, she can still recognize the blonde even if she cut her hair short. She was about to approach the sophisticated looking Tribute when Cormac pulled her away and lead her to where McGonagall is. The night was filled of questions in her head and all of it is about the blonde Veela.

The next day after the parade, they were all asked to head to the training area. McGonagall told her and Cormac to avoid the places they excel in. Cormac in the lifting area while Hermione, the archery area. Hermione was more occupied in how she will talk to the blonde than the whole Games. As soon as they set foot in the training area, Hermione looked for the Sylph Tribute and found her by the archery area.

_'Great.'_

Making a beeline towards the archery area, Cormac telling her not to, she ignored her co-Tribute and went straight to the Veela. From the glass window, she watched the Veela take a stance and aimed her arrow at one of the targets at the end of the shooting range. Her eyes are focused on how the blonde held the bow and her focus directed at the target. This piqued her curiosity. She remember that the blonde's incapable of handling the bow and arrow. Like the arrow fell off her grip or the bow's the one being launched instead of the arrow. But now, it was like the blonde's been doing it for years.

Then she noticed that blonde stopped her archery practice and turned to her with a questioning look. She realized that she has been staring at the blonde for a while and blushed at her actions. The Veela placed the bow and arrows back on the rack of projectile weaponry and exited the glass-covered area.

"You have been staring. I don't mind having a pretty face like yours to admire me but can you do it from afar? It's distracting my concentration." The blonde Tribute said with a tone of velvety annoyance.

Hermione recovered from her blushing fit and took offense in the blonde's words. "Excuse me for being a distraction then." She scowled at the blonde and turned around to check on the other things she could train on.  _'No she's not her. She's not that easily annoyed. Wait she is but… Not like that. Ugh! That bloody Veela!'_ She stomps towards the table where the traps are being taught and focused in making traps.

Tried to.

Even after years of separation, the blonde is still her worse distraction.

While learning how to make traps, half of her attention went to the golden necklace that hanged on her neck, playing with it by twirling the hourglass. It was a gift from the blonde before they stopped seeing each other. It was the only thing she can hold on to that makes her believe that the blonde Veela is real. That everything that happen in the forest are not her imagination.

"What are you doing?" Someone spoke from behind Hermione, starling the brunette.

Hermine turned around and found herself face to face with the female Sylph Tribute. Seeing the blonde, she remembered how she was treated earlier and glared at her. "I'm making a snare. What do you want? "

The blonde took a step back and gave a curt bow. "I would like to apologize for snapping at you earlier, my dear. I was simply annoyed at the others who have been stalking me since yesterday and I immediately assumed you are one of them." The blonde said with an apologetic expression.

"Well, I'm not. I was just watching you coz you seemed familiar to me. You looked like my Veela." Hermione said, toying with the trinket in her hand.

This made the blonde tilt her head a bit. "And you are familiar to me too. Apologies once again, but I suffered from a somewhat,  _amnesia_ , so there are some memories that I cannot remember. Though seeing you, I can somewhat recall knowing you." The blonde explained.

Somehow, Hermione doubted what the blonde said. "Amnesia? Seriously?" The blonde nodded. "So you don't know who I am?" again the blonde nods her head in confirmation.

"Sadly, yes. But you are familiar to me."

 _'I should be coz you fucking kissed me before you left.'_  Hermione scrunched her nose at the thought of the blonde forgetting all about her while she spent the years of their separation anticipating their reunion. "I see…"

Hermione was about to turn her back at the blonde when she was stopped and forced to face the Veela. "But I want to remember you. Tell me your name my angel. Maybe it will help me remember."

Hermione eyed her skeptically. She never gave the blonde her name before so why would it trigger a memory.

"Well?"

"You finally learned to speak in English without your French accent." Hermione asked, ignoring the question about her name. It was true that the blonde's way of speaking in English sounded fluent. Like she never spoke French before.

"Ow? I spoke in français? Then I'm glad that I got rid of that accent, right?"

The blonde winked at her. She blushed but felt that she didn't like the blonde's new attitude. How cocky she is and the lack of accent she came to miss. She brushed it off as changes during the times they were separated. Instead of answering, she was pulled back by Cormac, telling her that their mentor need them.

"Really?" Hermione asked with sarcasm dripping in her tone after being pulled away from the blonde Sylph Tribute.

Cormac shook his head. "For a bright girl, you actually-OW!"

"I was being sarcastic you idiot. So why did you drag me away? I was learning how to make a sturdy snare." Hermione glared at her co-Tribute who now cradled his sore left ear. She had to pinch the boy's ear for being ignorant of her sarcasm.

"It seems to me, you are being snared by one of the Careers." Cormac said with a smug expression. "Granger, that woman is the ring leader of the forming Careers. I don't think someone like us will be welcomed in her little pack."

Careers. They are those who have trained throughout their lives just to participate in the Hunger Games. It is usually those are in the Slytherin District and the whole Durmstrang region that are called as such due to their view of being a Tribute as an honor.

"Just be careful about that Sylph Tribute. I can sense danger from her." Cormac said, leaving Hermione.

The brunette stood by the sides. What Cormac told her, about the blonde being dangerous, somewhat reminded her of what her Veela told her before leaving. That she will prove that she is not soft like most of the Sylph citizens.  _'Maybe she did worked out. Well she was cute when she's pouting after being beaten up.'_ She giggled at the thought of the younger version of the blonde pouting. She then played with her necklace once again, flicking the hourglass to spin, and watching it in amusement.

"Do you know the myth of that necklace?"

Hermione looked up and found the blonde looking back at her with a playful smile. Her arms are in akimbo and her eyes are trailed to the necklace that now rested on top of her chest. "My face is up here." She said, pointing to the direction of her face.

"Mm. But I rather look at that necklace. My dear Otter… That, the thing you are playing with, is a Time Turner."

Hermione was about to comment about the blonde openly gawking at her when she heard the nickname that her Veela used to call her. "What did you call me?"

The Veela finally looked at Hermione with a cheeky smirk. "Otter. I do call you as one, yes? And you call me as a Veela. To avoid being-" She wriggled her nose.

Hermione understood what the Veela was signaling to her and nodded. "Yes. That is… wait, does that mean you remember?"

The Veela nodded. " _Oui."_  She said in a suave French accent and a smirk. "So, want me to tell you all about the Time Turner?"

**[End of flashback]**

"Vat name?" Viktor asked, stopping Hermione's tale about the 74th Hunger Games. He sported a curious look as he watch Hermione who was smiling the whole time she was telling him about the Games.

"What was that Viktor?" Hermione inquired. She was lost in the memory about the blonde that she did not hear Viktor's question. How could she not if the memory she's recalling are those of happy ones, instead of those of the Games. Viktor repeated his question and this time Hermione heard her. "Her name… Her name huh?"

_"That is a time turner. It is said that if you turn it on a night of a full moon, time will turn."_

_"Time will turn? What do you mean?"_

_The blonde smiled at her. "Well, my beautiful angel, they said that it will bring back what you want the most."_

_She snorted. "What I want the most? What I want the most right now is to know your name."_

_"My name? Well, if you give me yours, I'll give you mine. Fair enough?"_

_She nodded. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger."_

_"Hermonie… Hermione Jean Granger? A fitting name for an angel, no?"_

_"Cut the whole flirting thing. Now I told you my name, tell me yours." She eyed the woman before her like any minute she'll commit a crime._

_"Before that… Let us see if time will turn." The Veela smirked and approached her, taking the Time Turner in her hand, and twirled it. After three turns, nothing happened. "Oh well. Maybe if one wishes hard enough, they can turn back time."_

_"Or the fact that tonight is not a full moon. Now will you tell me your name?"_

_"Inquisitive, are you? Well if my name is that important then let me tell you- Oh wait! I forgot that there is an incantation in order for the Time Turner to work."_

Hermione looked at the sky and focused on at the bright full moon. "Will you hold on to that question for a minute? I need to try something." She told the Brynhildr-born rebel. Viktor silently agreed and she took a deep breath as she held the trinket in her hand. She turned the inner rings of the pendant and then the hourglass, breath held in anticipation. She slowly closed her eyes and remembered what the Veela told her about the Time Turner's incantation.

"I mark the hours, every one, nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you, are gauged by what you have to do." Hermione whispered, turning the hourglass, making the grains of gold inside to move from each side of the glass. 'If time would turn… All I wish is to have my Veela back. To hear her voice again. To be with her again.' Hermione finished. She looked at the trinket, hoping it would grant what her heart desired the most.

To see her Veela again.

But seconds past, nothing happened. The brunette sighed heavily, slowly opening her eyes. "I knew that it was just a my-"

"Ezn't eet a bit late for a ztroll in 'ze forest, Viktor?"

A new voice echoed within the clearing, alerting both Hermione and Viktor.

"Now, now, don't go preaching about midnight strolls. As I recall, you are the definition of the term 'rebel'." There was a sudden gust of cold wind that followed a taunting voice from above. "Though I have to agree, I never thought that you, Vicky, will be breaking the rules of keeping a prisoner locked up. HAHAHAHA!" a maniac laugh resounded within the clearing.

"O' 'us'. Eet eez not Viktor'z fault. Our captive'z juzt eluzive." Another one spoke with a heavy French accent. As if she cannot speak English or having trouble with it.

Hermione can tell that the voices are female voices. She and Viktor both looked at the direction where the voices came from and Hermione scrambled up to her feet, and put her guard up.

Viktor on the other hand, went stiff, stiffer than usual that is, the moment he recognized the owners of the voices.

"Show yourselves!" Hermione demanded, eyes focused on the two beings hiding under the shadows on top of one of the thick tree branches.

"Feisty one, aren't ya? But Vicky, tut-tut-tut. Aren't you supposed to be, I dunno, keeping Granger there locked up?" the one with a maniacal voice asked the rigid guard.

"Apologies." Viktor replied, lowering his head.

"Don't be 'ars' on 'im. Atleazt 'e eez not battered like 'ze rezt." The one with a thick accent said.

Hermione, lost in the whole conversation that is about her, frowned and crouched down to grab a small flat rock. She picked up a rock with a slightly sharp edge and she hurled it towards the direction of the two new comers. She waited for the sound of pain or stone over flesh but all she heard was a sound of metal being hit. What she did not expect is the same stone being thrown back at her, grazing her bruised cheek and drew blood from it. Her hand shot up reflexively and cradled her bleeding cheek.

"Now 'zat eez no way to greet your captor." There was a hint of mirth in the voice of the one who spoke in a deep French accent.

The brunette was about to retort an insult when she noticed a sharp glint heading towards her. She jumped backward, starling Viktor in the process, and heard a sound of the ground being hoed. Chocolate-brown eyes trailed where the sound came from and found a dagger with a blue handle and trident-styled guard and a circular pommel. She growled and glared at the direction of the new comers. "Show yourselves!"

"Demanding little doll, isn't she?" the maniacal voice said, taunting Hermione.

Hermione's brow twitched at how the one who has a tone of insanity taunted her. Treating her like a child. She watched the shadows until one of them stepped out and she had to stifle a gasp upon seeing the slightly lunatic appearance of one of the new comers. "You're…"Hermione swallowed an invisible lump in her throat. The presence of the woman in a black dress intimidated her more than the first time she saw Viktor. Reigning in her fear, she eyed the woman in a black dress with caution. "Bellatrix Black…" she said, recognizing the woman dressed in a slightly tattered black dress and a messy wavy hair.

Bellatrix Black. The woman who competed in the 54th Hunger Games and won. The most loon of all the Tributes.

Bellatrix showed a devious grin. "Oh goodie she knows me! Nice to meet'cha. It's nice to know that people from your pathetic district knows me. Am I right?" Bellatrix said. She turned to where her companion hid, waiting for the other woman to make her appearance

The one whom Bellatrix called out, stepped out from the shadows. Viktor immediately stood up, attention directed to Bellatrix's companion, while Hermione frowned at what she is seeing.

Dressed in a black tactical vest with a black long-sleeved under it, black cargo pants that's tucked in a black military boots. What made Hermione frown is how the woman, the curves and the chest area showed her femininity, has a long platinum blonde hair, plaited with her bangs pushed back in a windswept manner, shimmered under the moonlight and wore a black half-faced mask that emphasize her ocean-blue eyes.

Seeing those ocean-blue hues, staring back at her, made Hermione's heart race.

"Everyone knowz 'oo you are, Bella. Ztop wi'z 'ze teazin. We need to get back before 'zose guardz 'ear uz. As for you, Viktor, kindly ezcort, mademoiselle Granger back to 'ze eztate." The blonde with ocean-blue eyes said, averting her gaze from Hermione's.

Viktor nodded and approached Hermione. He whispered to her, in minimal words, that they should head back but the brunette did not budge and still has her eyes on the two women standing on top of the tree branches. Mainly focused on the blonde one.

The two jumped off the tree branch and the blonde one approached her with grace fit for a noble in each step. As if the path she walked on is her property.

Hermione was about to ask what the blonde wanted when the said masked blonde in black military wear bent down and took the dagger from the ground. The said blonde flicked the small weapon up in the air and turned her body around without uttering single word to the brunette. The dagger fell back down and landed itself on the thick guard on the back of the blonde where another dagger was poking out, ready for usage. She watched in awe how it happened and the blonde with a mask that walked back to Bellatrix as they both headed back to the pathway heading to the so-called estate.

Hermione and Viktor followed suit, with the brunette still focused on the blonde. How a familiar feeling stirred inside her as soon as she saw the blonde's eyes. How the blonde could handle a knife so skillfully like someone she know-knew.

On their way back, Viktor asked once again who the Sylph Tribute that Hermione was talking about in her story. But Hermione did not want to answer him as she is currently preoccupied with knowing who the blonde dressed in dark military suit is. Why she felt that she knows her. And why she's with the deranged Tribute victor. "Who are you?" Hermione asked out loud. Her question stopped Bellatrix and the blonde from their tracked and turned around to face her. Bellatrix laughed and the blonde to raise a brow at her direction.

Bellatrix, after laughing for a minute, wiped the tear that formed on the corner of her eyes. "And here I thought you are really the brightest Tribute of all. You, my dear, are in the presence of the Order of the Phoenix's one and only leader. THE rebel herself."

The blonde smirks and Hermione instantly felt her heart thundered. Pounding like a set of drums at how dashing the smirk looks like with the added mask. She watched how the blonde showed her a curt bow and slowly stood up, winking at her in the process.

" _Je m'appelle_  Commander. Eet eez a pleazure to meet you,  _mademoiselle_  Granger." The blonde who called herself as Commander said in a suave manner as if she was flirting with Hermione. After the brief introduction, Commander turned her back to Hermione and began her trek back to the estate.

The smirk, the curt bow, the wink and the way she spoke like flirting; it pulled Hermione into a memory of the Games. Of the one who she owes her life to.

_"Bloody hell! If you don't give me your name, I'll call you 'Joan'."_

_The blonde Sylph Tribute scoffed. "Joan? Really? I do deserve a much beautiful name than that."_

_"Then tell me your bloody name! I told mine already."_

_"You do know you could-"_

_She glared at the blonde._

_"Alright. My name is-"_

"Clemence Raine Delacour." Hermione whispered, repeating what the blonde Sylph Tribute told her before.

Little does Hermione know, the blonde Commander heard her whisper and staggered unnoticeably as she made her way out of the Forbidden Forest.

**Souviendra de nous – Arc I Complete**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc I is done but that doesn't mean this is finished. Next arc will show more of Hermione and the Order of the Phoenix.


	6. Forgive me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arc II: Bandaged Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, apologies for the late update. We were busy with several events in our lives that we were unable to update like the usual once per week. Second, one of us entered a writing contest so she got busier than usual (guess who). And lastly, I would like to apologize for the short update chapter and we'll make sure that the next one will be longer than this.
> 
> Oh and we desperately need a beta-reader T-T got a review about the grammar in the previous and possibly future chapters.
> 
> Thank you!

Stepping out of the forest, Hermione was able to look around the place she was taken to. Sure she already deduced that it was a big house due to the maze-like halls, the spacious rooms and the wide backyard, but she never expected the place to be an estate.

The backyard looked more of a leisure park than just plain garden. There were hedges as tall as the first floor of the mansion by the sides. A wide open lawn with a gazebo and a few marble statues displayed at the other. And behind her, the Forbidden forest can be seen with guards set up at every opening of the stone wall erected at the edge of the meadow-like yard.

"Ah! Nothing like the smell of luxury!" Bellatrix said, laughing loudly and hooking her arm around the military-suited blonde beside her. "A day early eh? Oh the missus would be pleased to see us!"

"Pleazed? More like annoyed." The Commander said with a huff. "Worze, furiouz!"

Hermione wondered what the two rebels were talking about. The way Bellatrix spoke is like saying she's home or somewhere along those lines. As far as her memory about the Tributes serves her, Bellatrix Black is from the Slytherin district. And the blonde? She acted more of from the Durmstrang region but she speaks as if she lived in Sylph.

"Commander travels. Sylph favorite." Viktor said from behind, noticing that Hermione was staring at the Commander.

She looked up to the somber rebel and then to Bellatrix and the Commander. Then she noticed as the estate guards and the rebels, it was easy to distinguish the rebels due to their civilian clothing than the estate guards who wore powder blue I.S suits, stopped whatever they are doing and saluted to the Commander. "They respect the Commander even if she's a rebel?" She asked, gaining a nod from Viktor.

"Yes. Commander is respected. Rebel or not."

"I see." Hermione's line of sight went back to the Commander. The moonlight illuminated her platinum blonde hair, making it glow around her head. It captured her attention; like a moth to a flame. With her attention split to different things that revolved around who the Commander is, she bumped to the hard back of the blonde and lost her balance. Surprised, she stumbled backwards with her arms flailing around. She was going to fall hard on the ground, she knows it, and closed her eyes and braced for impact.

But she felt nothing. No hard impact on the grassy lawn or even feeling the prickle of the grass on her thin clothing. She felt nothing other than the hardness and bulkiness on her chest area and a strong and supportive hold on her back. She slowly opened her eyes and found a pair of haunting ocean blue eyes staring back at her. Looking at her with a mixture of worried and confusion in them.

"You z'ould be careful. 'Ze nig't eez not forgiving even eef eet lookz magnifique." The Commander said in a cold tone.

Before Hermione could react, a cackle from Bellatrix interrupted them. "Smooth move there Commander." Her words were followed by a grunt from Viktor that sounded like he's stopping himself from laughing.

Hermione, not fond of being teased, furrowed her brows and pushed herself away from the blonde. Her actions lead her to fall down on the ground, making a crunching noises after landing on the grass. She clenched her teeth and held her breath to stop herself from yelping in pain after her bum kissed the ground. Bellatrix laughed louder and she glared at the maniacal woman fiercely. But before she could utter a word, she heard someone speak in French and instantly the Commander stood up straight. Even Bellatrix, the lunatic loose cannon Tribute, stopped laughing and looked serious.

Strange.

From where they stood, the brunette turned to the source of the sudden attentiveness of the somewhat flirtatious cocky blonde and the loon rebel. By the doors leading inside the estate, she saw a woman dressed in a powder blue robes, standing there with her arms crossed. Hermione can that the said woman in blue looked angry. Like how her mom is whenever she's hanging out with Ron and Harry. Especially with Ron. It sent chills down her spine at how the woman in blue with platinum blonde colored hair and light blue eyes just stood by the door. The mere look of the woman in blue made her feel like standing up straight like the Commander did and making sure she's well-mannered and not a wrinkle in place.

The woman in blue spoke in French that's directed towards the Commander who answered as if the woman is a higher official. Bellatrix remained silent at the exchange of words from the two blondes even if she was somewhat insulted; Hermione could guess it was an insult due to the sneer from the older blonde, and remained rooted to her place. Then the older blonde turned her attention to Hermione the Commander pointed at her way. The older blonde's angered face softened.

"Ah the visitor." The older blonde's said in English, losing the French accent in her tone. "She looks filthy. And wounded." The blonde turned to the Commander, glaring at her and spoke French once again. Hermione somehow felt that the older blonde was reprimanding the Commander about her running to the forest and being injured.

"But z'e ran to 'ze forezt! Eet eez-" The Commander was cut off by a piercing glare from the older blonde. "I'll zee to eet 'zat z'e eez cleaned and treated."

"Good. Now come mademoiselle Granger, let us leave these brutes. I would treat your wounds back to your chambers and then give you a bath."

"But Viktor eez-" The Commander's words were cut off by the stern glare of the older blonde.

"Viktor eez a boy. Unlez you want 'im seeing mademoiselle Granger take a bath, 'zen be my guest." The older blonde said with a heavy French accent. The accent emphasized the challenge in the older blonde's tone.

Hermione watched how the Commander looked at her, noting how those piercing blue eyes looked angered, and scowled that made her shiver. Then the sights was shifted to someone else. Viktor.

"Fine. I'll call Luna to replace you in guardin' mademoiselle Granger. For now." The Commander said with a growl. "Allons-y Viktor, Bella." She walked passed the older blonde with Viktor and Bella following her. Viktor mumbled an apology to Hermione before he left while Bellatrix started snickering as soon as they entered the house, leaving Hermione with the far more intimidating blonde.

"Now that child is no longer here, come mademoiselle, let's get you inside and cleaned up." The older blonde said with a small smile.

Hermione skeptically followed the older blonde back inside the estate. She followed the blonde to the second floor and she noticed how the guards saluted when they passed them by. She could've sworn she heard a few guards sighing in relief when they left as well. Now she wondered who the older blonde is and why she looked like she held so much authority, even compared to the Commander. Why a woman dressed in sleeping robes emit such fear on everyone compared to the leader of the rebels. She kept her thoughts to herself until they entered the room she was held captive before.

"As expected from Amelia. Spotless." The older blonde said approvingly while tracing her right index finger over the wooden door and seeing no spot of dirt from it. "It's hard to find good help these days, don't you agree?" It was a rhetorical question, which Hermione was sure of. "And Amelia, heck if not for that good boy Viktor, I would've promoted her to housekeeper." She laughed.

"Excuse me? But why would Viktor not want Amelia to be the housekeeper?" Hermione questioned. Being a housekeeper is like being the owner of the house as well. She has direct contact with the lady of the house and generally is the head of the maids. The blonde looked at her like with a frown.

"Because it would make Amelia busier than she already is. And the probability of her being a target of jealousy may arise. I know you already noticed that she's an Avox and how Avoxes are treated, correct?" Hermione nodded. "So in order to ensure she's safe, I made her just a maid. If it was me, I would just assign her a bodyguard while she works. But enough about her, let's go and treat that wound and then find you a change of clothing, hm?" She smiled and walked towards the armoire to find the medicine kit and some clothes.

While the blonde was looking for the things needed, Hermione suddenly voiced out her musings. "Who are you?" as soon as she blurted it out, she squeaked and covered her mouth with her hands. The blonde, holding a white box, turned around to face her with a cocked brow.

"Oh? I thought they already told you." Hermione shook her head. "Dear gods. Kids these days…" The blonde sighed and gestured for Hermione to sit on the bed which the visitor of the lavish estate obliged. She followed and sat beside Hermione and took a small container from the white box. Opening the container, using her index finger and middle finger, she scooped a few contents from the container and gently spread it on the brunette's wound. After applying the ointment, she took a small plaster from the box and placed it on the wounded cheek, covering up the wound. "Now it should stay there for just ten minutes and you can remove the plaster."

Hermione silently nodded but her face still holds the look that she needs to know who the blonde woman is.

"Mademoiselle-" Before the blonde could continue, there was a knock on the door and followed by a meek voice. "Excuse me…" The blonde huffed and granted entry to the new comer.

Hermione looked at the one who just entered and blinked. Another blonde. Only this time, there's no authority compared to the blonde beside her or the Commander. The new comer has look of somewhat-out of it? Hermione was not sure. She can only describe it as airy.

"Good evening Apolline. The Commander ordered me for watch duty." The airy blonde said with a breathy tone. Hermione though it was breathy, not like she's tired kind but more of speaking to a wind.

"Ah great. You're perfect Luna." The blonde called as Apolline nodded. "Now mademoiselle Granger, this is Luna Lovegood. She's one of Viktor's subordinates and it would probably best if you don't ask about things she randomly says. Luna, this is Hermione Granger, a guest of mine."

Luna didn't mind what Apolline said about her and focused on Hermione. "A pleasure to meet you Hermione." She said with a smile and merely informed them that she'll be checking the balcony for any sign of Nargles. Hermione was about to ask what are Nargles but Apolline stopped her from asking. As if the older blonde already knew she was going to ask about it.

"As I was saying before we were disturbed. My name is Apolline…" Apolline paused, eyeing Hermione carefully like an expensive antique glass. After a second pause, she took a deep breath and held Hermione's hand to her own. "Apolline Delacour. But do call me Apolline."

Delacour. Apolline Delacour. Hermione already heard the name before. The family name Delacour.

**HER**  surname is Delacour.

_"So, Clemence, word has it that you being here broke many hearts"' Rita Skeeter, the host of the Games, said with a wide grin. She was at the backstage of the studio, watching from the 60" LED tv. Watching Clemence being interviewed by Rita. She has to stop herself from gawking at the blonde Tribute all the time after they met at the studio. She blames the way the blonde dresses; Stylish and gorgeous._

_The screen showed the face of Clemence, looking glum. 'Faux glum' she muttered._

_"I do apologize for it."_

_She could gag at how sad Clemence spoke. As if the blonde was really sad._

_"Well we all know that with a beauty like yours, you will be forgiven within a snap of a finger."_

_Clemence giggled. "Or by a wink of an eye."_

_She watched how Clemence winked at the audience and immediately they screamed that they forgive her. Vying for the blonde's attention. Clemence still manages to flirt and all around her, women and men, fawned over her. It made her brows twitch._

_"Though do tell me the juicy stuff, Delacour. Is there anyone, man or woman, that have captured your untamable heart? We all know the rumors of your flirtatious habit and avoiding relationships. So is there going to be a mister or missus Delacour in your life?" Rita asked with her feathery pen and paper ready._

_Hermione could imagine those who are watching the blonde holding their breaths in anticipation. The screen showed Clemence, face looking genuinely surprised at the question, and then looked directly at the camera with a sincere look. One she knew that was directed at her._

_Should be directed at her._

_"Oh yes indeed. Beauty alone or charms alone cannot tame me but combined it with outstanding wits…"_

_She watched the blonde took a deep breath and then showed a loving look._

_"My heart will always be with you, my beloved Otter."_

_Different reactions came from the crowd. She was sure that they are either devastated that Clemence's heart already belongs to someone else. –cough **her** cough-_

_"Well then, that caused more heartbreaks and probably a suicide here and there." Rita said, smile still visible. "So breaking our beloved audiences aside, it has been years since someone from the prominent family to be tagged as a Tribute. The last one was from the Black family, if my memory serves me correctly. How do you feel about this?"_

_Cold. She could only describe the smile from Clemence as cold when the camera focused on her._

_"Ah that…" Clemence grinned. A sexy yet terrifying grin. "Indeed, the last one was a few years ago. And here I am, from the Delacours. The daughter of Sylph district's mayor, Apolline Delacour. A woman who had a slim chance to be picked as a Tribute." A cold laugh. "And you are asking how do I feel?"_

_She watches Clemence face the camera with a sadistic smile._

_"I feel like I'll be doing the capital a favor. By winning the Hunger Games that is. As my family love to say; Hell hath no fury like the wrath of the Delacours. And I am pissed at this Games and my fury will be unleashed to those who stands in my way."_

_That ended Clemence's interview and she left the stage without acknowledging the audience. It sent chills to everyone's spine at how cold she said those words._

_'She's definitely pissed.' She mumbled, readying herself to go out next._

Daughter of Apolline Delacour. The woman before Hermione introduced herself as Apolline Delacour. The mayor of Sylph district.

"Clemence's mother…" Hermione whispered.

Apolline heard the fact about her and smiled like a chesire cat. "Indeed I am Clemence's mother and also the mayor of this district. And though I look a bit indecent, I welcome you to Sylph."

Hermione felt nervous. Not because she's in front of the mayor of Sylph but because Apolline is Clemence's mother. The mother of the woman who sacrificed a lot for her. She has no right to even be near the woman who gave birth to Clemence. The woman who should be blaming her for the loss of a daughter.

As if reading Hermione's mind, Apolline stood up and approached the armoire again, checking for clothes while humming. It looked like Apolline didn't resent her for the death of Clemence.

"Why…" Hermione whispered, holding back her tears. Memories of Clemence began filling her thoughts like a tsunami and she's slowly being drowned by them.

"Why what dear?" Apolline asked without looking at Hermione. She continued to hum and browse the clothes rack. "Are you asking why I'm here? Why am I looking for clothes?" she paused to hum some more. After a minute of browsing, she picked up a pink jacket with white shirt and skinny jeans. "Or why am I not screaming at you or blaming you for the death of Clemence?"

Hermione felt like everything around her froze and she's inside a block of ice. But then she noticed something. There was no resentment in her voice nor anger in her face. She blinked a few times, thinking she was dreaming, but there was no change in Apolline's expression. She was smiling at her in a motherly way. "But… You should-"

"The Games brings sorrow and sacrifices my dear. Clemence knew that when she volunteered. We all knew." Apolline showed a mournful expression. "Both of you were caught in an endless game. I cannot blame you for my idiotic daughter's decisions nor can I blame you for the whole event." She placed the clothes beside Hermione and patted the brunette's head. "But I can take care of you in behalf of my daughter. She may not have said anything but I know she loved you dearly."

She wanted to cry. To mourn for Clemence. But all her tears have dried out after a month of crying for the fallen Tribute. "Even if her death…"

"Death is inevitable my dear. It just happen that Clemence's death came early." Apolline's sorrowful look changed to a solemn smile. "But enough about my dear Clemence, why not go to the showers and clean yourself up? I'll leave you to Luna while I ask one of our maids to prepare you something to eat. Hopefully Amelia is still awake. Gods know she's the only one capable enough to prepare me the meal I want." She said, leaving Hermione to herself.

As soon as Apolline exited the room, Luna came back from checking the balcony. The airy blonde has a look of satisfaction and wearing colorful glasses that looked like an insane owl. "I did not find any Nargles but I found a few Wrackspurts hovering around. I swatted them away for your protection."

Hermione frowned and wondered what Luna is saying and what was she wearing. She wanted to ask, being a seeker of knowledge, but she remembered Apolline telling her not to ask about it. Somehow she can understand why. "I see… Thank you, Luna." She said, smiling at the airy blonde who now removed her unusual glasses.

"Just doing my job." Luna went to the seat where Viktor usually sits and sat there while watching Hermione with a smile on her face.

Hermione watched how Luna looked carefree compared to the grump that is Viktor. If what Apolline said is true about Luna being one of Viktor's subordinates, she wondered why the blonde looked lax than alert since the burly man looked like his senses have been sharpened to spot even a bug.

"You should take a shower. She won't like it if you take any longer." Said Luna. Hermione gave her a look that translates to 'she who?' and Luna just pointed the black tactical watch on her wrist. "The Commander. She is rather impatient at times."

Hermione nodded and took the prepared towel and toiletries. Somehow she found Luna as odd and would really need patience; a relaxed mind and lots of coffee before she can even have a decent conversation with the airy blonde.

Entering the bathroom, she was not surprise to see how luxurious it is. To think those of Gryffindor suffered poverty while the people of Sylph spent on preposterous things. The frame of the mirror by the sink looked like it was gold plated.

'Or maybe it is pure gold.'

The faucet, showerhead and even the shower handles are made of silver.

"Somehow I won't be surprised if the faucet or shower will spew out natural spring water." Hermione whispered, looking around the well-decorated bathroom. Deciding to ignore the well-decorated shower, she stripped the muddied clothes she has, gently removed the plaster from her face, and proceeded to take the bath she has neglected for a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness.  
> -Marianne Williamson


	7. I Hate You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, after reading the reviews, I am amazed at the different speculations of ya readers. We wanna hear more about it and how ya guys came to that conclusion ;) Anyways, chapter 7 is up! Hope ya enjoy.

It took Hermione an hour to finish scrubbing anything and everything she deemed as dirty off of her body. Dirt had clung to her skin like glue so she had to scrub them off like scrubbing the coal off her father's car. Her skin, pale as it is, now garnered red scrub marks all over her body like she suddenly had an allergy attack or attacked by wolves. With fresh clothes and her necklace secured on her neck, she assumed that Luna slipped them in the bathroom without her knowing, she exited the bathroom and greeted by the blonde bodyguard, holding a small white plaster.

"Breakfast will be served at the dining hall." Luna said with a bright smile. She approached the brunette and gentle placed the plaster over the bruised cheek of Hermione. "Shall I lead you there?" Without waiting for Hermione's reply, Luna left the room without even looking back at her.

Hermione felt the coolness coming from her cheek and she deduced it was for the bruise that she got from Umbridge. Thankful for the first aid, she followed her guard while admiring everything that surrounded her. From the expensive looking decorations to the well-guarded corridors, she's amazed of how the manor resembled of Slytherin's main house. Then she stopped when she saw a large wall decoration that is slightly covered with a black cloth. The side of the decoration, a part that the cloth did not cover, showed a painting of a blonde hair and ocean blue eyes of a child. She was enamored by how lively the painting looked like and was about to pull the cloth off of it when she felt someone tap her shoulder and startled her.

"This way." Luna told Hermione, pulling her away from the painting. She was lead down the stairs and towards the left wing of the first floor.

Approaching the dining hall, Hermione was not surprised that the first thing – person – she saw was Bellatrix Black, laughing maniacally once again. Taunting the woman dressed in black military gear and black masquerade mask. Ignoring the lunatic woman and the one who planned her kidnapping, Hermione looked around the hall and noted who will be having breakfast with her.

Apolline was present, silently reading the newspaper.

Amelia stood near Apolline, as if waiting for orders to be given to her.

Viktor stood behind the chair of the so-called Commander, still with a serious look on his face and looked like guarding his superior.

Lastly, a teen, not older than fifteen, sat on the chair by Apolline's left and at the right of the Commander. The said teen has a long platinum blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and a knowing smirk on her face.

Hermione noted that the blonde teen looked a bit like Clemence and Apolline.

"I'm telling you, little canary, that this woman here took down a bear with her bare hands!" Bellatrix said while laughing. The teen looked at the Commander excitedly and asked if the older blonde really beat a bear with her bare hands.

The Commander merely ruffled the teen's hair and denied what Bellatrix said.

Hermione stared. She stared at the mysterious Commander and noticed how relaxed she was and how she did not act so cold towards the younger blonde.

"The teen is Apolline's daughter." Luna said, noticing how Hermione was staring at the blonde teen.

The brunette nodded, seeing the resemblance of the mayor of Sylph and the teen that's been gushing on the so-called Commander. She watched how the two interacted. The Commander was poking the cheeks of the younger blonde beside her while the teen playfully swatted the finger that's poking her cheek. Somehow, she smiled upon seeing the teen chuckle and play with the Commander. The smile of the teen looked like how Clemence would smile.

Luna placed a hand over Hermione's shoulder and gently squeezed it. Such action made the brunette look at her and she have noticed the tears forming on the corner of those chocolate hued eyes. "Think of happy thoughts. Wrackspurts are roaming around and happy thoughts dispel them." She said. Even before Hermione could react, she gently pushed the brunette inside the dining hall.

Stumbling forward, Hermione already braced herself for the incoming fall when she was suddenly pulled back and landed on a something firm and smelled the scent of gunpowder. Slowly looking at what cushioned her fall, she saw Viktor looking back at her with a concern look on his usual serious face. She then noticed that she was on top of the burly man, both hands on his chest, and Viktor's arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

"Herm-own-ninny. Okay?" Viktor asked, eyes gleaming of concern.

Hermione blushed and nodded slowly. "Oh, uhm, yes I'm alright. Sorry about that." She said and gently pushes away from the rebel guard and was assisted by Luna in standing up.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I was not aware that the Wrackspurts have been buzzing around you too much that you were unable to react on time." Luna looked apologetic and checked Hermione for any signs of injuries, aside from the brunette's cheek that is. She then waved her hands near Hermione's ears as if shooing away a bunch of flies. After several more waves, she stopped and nodded. "There. They shouldn't be bothering you for a while." She said and then left Hermione who has a confused look on her face.

The brunette was speechless and confused the whole time Luna did her hand waving ritual, but the sudden laughter from Bellatrix and a French cuss from the Commander snapped her out of her confused daze. She was far too occupied with knowing what Luna was doing than to notice what was happening around her so when she heard the maniacal laugh of Bellatrix, she turned her attention to the Commander.

"Ahahahahaha! If you want to say something, say it in English, birdie." Bellatrix laughed once again. The Commander grumbled and glared at her. "Pft, your glare doesn't work on me you know. C'mon I dare you to tell everyone-" she looked at Hermione who was watching her conversation with the Commander. "What you just said. In English" She turned to the Commander and showed a taunting smirk.

The Commander wanted to strangle Bellatrix but with the table in-between them, she was not able to move. Annoyed at how the dark haired woman was teasing her, she placed her hand over the steak knife beside her table and was about to hurl it towards Bellatrix when the mayor of the district cleared her throat and looked at her sternly. With such a warning stare, she lowered the knife, placing it back on the table, and grumbled.

Hermione watched the whole scene and was astonished at how Apolline was able to put the rebel commander in line. The woman whom Harry, Ron and Ginny, all looked up to, folded under the gaze of the mayor of Sylph district. The woman who can stand beside Bellatrix Black, the insane Tribute winner, did not put a fight to Apolline Delacour.

'Maybe that's where Clemence got her commanding attitude.' She smiled sadly upon the memory of a cocky blonde Tribute, shouting orders to the other Careers.

Apolline saw Hermione standing by the entrance of the hall and called for the brunette to join them. " _Mademoiselle_  Granger, dear, sit and have breakfast with us."

Hermione was hesitant in joining Apolline and the others. It was instinct that's telling her that whatever conversation she will have with the Commander, Bellatrix and Apolline, it would not be pretty.

"Will you join us? Please?"

Hermione looked at the one who spoke to her and found the younger blonde looking at her pleadingly. It pains her to see such face be stained by a pleading look. "Oh alright." She replied, making her way towards the empty seat adjacent to the youngest blonde. She then introduced herself to the teen who looked like a younger version of Clemence.

The youngest blonde smiled. " _Je m'appelle_  Gabrielle Delacour. But pleaze call me Gabby." She said with a thick French accent like Apolline and the Commander.

The Gryffindor resident showed a rare smile upon hearing Gabby's accent. It reminded her of Clemence when she was having trouble with speaking in English. "A pleasure to meet you Gabby. Please call me Hermione."

Everyone around the table watched how Gabrielle did not shy away from Hermione. Apolline has an approving smile on her face; Amelia too was smiling while Viktor watched curiously. Bellatrix was more amused at her Commander who focused more on her food than their captive.

"Oh lookie, the little canary approves of Granger over there." Bellatrix said to the Commander. She was expecting a reaction from her commander but the blonde leader did not even give a glance at Hermione and Gabrielle. The only thing that her commander did was tell Gabrielle, in French, to finish her meal and get ready for the day. She did not like the way her blonde ward reacted and decided to bug the Commander once again.

While Bellatrix kept on annoying the leader of the rebel forces, Hermione looked at her plate and realized how hungry she was. Bacon, eggs, French toast, even mashed potatoes have been served on her plate and there are still more on the table that could feed tens of people. With all that happened in the past week, the sight and smell of the food that was in front of her made her realized how little she ate and how her stomach have been seeking for nourishment that is not near borderline suicidal diet. Giving in to her hunger, she silently ate the breakfast that was served to her.

" _Mademoiselle_  Granger-" Apolline called for Hermione's attention. When Hermione raised her head and looked at her, she showed the Gryffindor-born woman a warm smile. "I would like to apologize for the rough escort you had when you arrived here. If I would've known that the way you will be brought here is by kidnapping-" she glared at the rebel Commander who avoided eye contact with her. "I would've fetched you from Gryffindor personally."

Hermione's brows furrowed. She thought that the whole kidnapping was Commander's idea but here, Apolline is apologizing for the blonde rebel's actions. "I thought it was her idea of kidnapping me?" she voiced out, pointing at the Commander. Commander scoffed and looked at her with those intense gaze. Those eyes made her squirm, if she would be drowned in the vast ocean.

"Az eef I would be wazting my time on a leetle gerl like you." Commander said, scrunching her nose as if she's disgusted with the idea. "I would ra'zer zpend my time training my men 'zan wi'z a gerl w'o clozed 'er eyez to 'ze tru'z." she sneered.

The way Commander talked to Hermione quieted everyone. Hermione, irked at how she was treated by the commander of the rebels, clenched her hands which are now hidden under the table. Her jaw clamped tightly to refrain herself from being rude to Apolline and Gabrielle. She was not in her house or her district, hence she will act as a guest should.

The leader of the rebel force scoffed loudly when she saw that Hermione was ignoring her. Not denying her accusations. "Zee? I do not know w'at 'arry 'ave zeen in you  _mademoiselle_  Granger w'en 'e zpeakz 'ighly of you. I better 'ave 'im c'eck on 'is eyezig't once again becauze 'e muzt be going blind." She leaned back, crossed her arms and grinned tauntingly. "Brig'tezt Tribute? You won't be zitting 'ere eef not for 'ze Zlyp' Tribute."

And that was it. It was the light to Hermione's fuse. She wondered, why, since she woke up a few days ago, that people tend to get on her nerves. Ron irritated her by trying to recruit her to be part of the rebellion; Draco for telling her how she couldn't move on; Umbridge for just being Umbridge; Ginny for telling her not to fall for Viktor; Charlie for kidnapping her; Bellatrix for being the loon she is; and lastly- "You…" Hermione growled. She slammed her hands on the table, making the entire breakfast spread to shake. "How dare you judge me!? You don't know me nor the torture that the Games had inflicted on me!" She roared like a proud lion.

But Commander did not flinch nor change her expression. She still has a taunting smirk on her face as if she's challenging the brunette. "Truzt me  _mademoiselle_  Granger. I know 'ow 'ard eet eez in 'ze Games. And knowing you?" She stood up and left her seat. With her back facing Hermione, she waved her hand to the occupants of the room. "I 'ave enoug' information to know w'o you are, Hermione Jean Granger, 'zan anyone elze in 'zis room." After that being said, she left the dining area with Bellatrix following behind.

Hermione was taken aback at how the Commander said her name with much familiarity. Shaking the thought of the rebel leader saying her name, she shot up from her and face the rebel leader, planning on giving a very colorful yet harsh retort. But her plans were in vail when her hand was quickly held by Gabrielle, who was now standing beside her. She slowly turned to the youngest blonde and found those sky blue colored eyes showing her a pleading look.

"'Don't. Pleaze? Zhe is rather…" Gabrielle looked at her mother who just shook her head. Understanding what her mother wanted, she faced Hermione again and took a deep breath. "Commander is juzt in a lot of strez now."

"She is right mademoiselle Granger." Apolline spoke out. With everyone's attention now focused to her, she decided to finally tell Hermione the reason why she was brought in her district. "I would like to apologize for that idiotic teenager's way of taking you here in my district, but I would also request for you to not be too harsh on her. I asked her assistance to take you here after my letters have been not been responded by you, countless of times."

The brunette blinked. She did not receive any letter from Sylph. "Letters? What letters? I did not receive any letter from you, Apolline."

Apolline merely shook her head in dismay. "I thought so. The twins were right when they said that my letters are being intercepted." She turned to Viktor who nodded in agreement. With that confirmation, she massaged her temple, trying to calm herself down and not contact a certain blonde minister in Slytherin.

"I don't understand." Hermione's brows creased. "Why would your mails be intercepted? And by who?" she questioned. There are multiple questions forming in her mind; why would the mayor of Sylph be sending her letters? Why would it be intercepted? And what's the content of the letter?

Apolline chuckled when she saw how Hermione looked like a child trying to understand what's happening around her. It was as her daughter told her. The brunette is a curious person by nature. " _Mademoiselle_  Granger, if my hunch is correct, you are wondering why would I be sending you a letter?"

"Yes."

The mayor of Sylph district looked around and saw everyone was anticipating her response. Aside from Gabrielle and the rebel commander, none of the other occupants know why she requested for Hermione's presence in her district. "It's just simple deary. It has something to do with an oncoming event." She said with a cheery smile on her face.

The smile of Apolline brought shivers to Hermione. It was the same cheery smile that Clemence had when they were kids. The smile that says there are more to it than meets the eye. "An event?"

" _Oui, mademoiselle_ Granger _._  Being the winner of the seventy-fourth Games, you will be our guest of honor to our district's event. Three days from now, the whole Sylph district will celebrate its seventy-fourth year and the theme is  _bal masque."_

"A what?" Hermione tilted her head to the side. She did not understand what Apolline told her about the event that would happen in Sylph.

Gabby tugged Hermione's shirt. "It meanz a mazquerade ball."

The brunette nodded and then turned her attention back to Apolline. "A masked ball?" Hermione repeated, uncertain in what she heard from blondes.

"Indeed it is a masquerade ball,  _mademoiselle_  Granger." Said Apolline. She placed her tea cup, now empty, on the table and let Amelia filled it again with tea. As her faithful and trusted aide was filling her cup, she continued explaining to Hermione the event that the whole Sylph will celebrate. "It is an annual even deary, and we usually invite the winning Tributes to be our guest of honor. All of the officials in the Ministry will be attending and the leaders of each district."

Hearing that the Ministry officials will be attending the ball, Hermione paled when she realized that one of those Ministry officials is Lucius and his son, Draco. That by being in the same event with those two Slytherin Ministry members, she would definitely have a headache when mingling with them. Or worse, she'll be executed if she got tired of their honey-slathered offers to keep her in the capital and lash out on them in the middle of the Sylph district. With those thoughts in consideration, she lowered her head and took a deep breath. She needs to be calm in declining Apolline's request. "Apolline I-"

"I won't take 'no' for an answer  _mademoiselle_  Granger." Apolline cut Hermione's response off. Drinking her tea with the elegance like a true noble should, she was determined that Hermione Granger will attend the said event. Placing her teacup down, the mayor of Sylph gave Hermione the same commanding gaze as she had with the rebels that is Bellatrix and the Commander. " _Mademoiselle_ \- no, Hermione, I wouldn't be putting so much effort in having you escorted here-"

"Kidnapped, to be exact." Gabriel corrected her mother.

"Kidnapped, yes. I swear I'm never letting that child do my escort errands again. Anyways, Hemione, please do attend our event. It would make this old lady happy, seeing her daughter's beloved having a good time." Apolline stood up and approached Hermione. She cupped Hermione's right cheek and gently caressed it. "I know my daughter would be urging you to be happy with the second life that was given to you than mourn over my daughter's death." She said, showing a motherly smile to Hermione.

The way Apolline accepted Clemence's death, the way she welcomed Hermione in her house, the comforting motherly treatment Hermione received form the matriarch of the Delacours; it was enough for Hermione to give in to the mayor of Sylph district's request.

A way to repay Apolline's kindness.

"Alright. I'll attend the ball" Hermione answered.

Immediately, Apolline smiled like a child winning a life time supply of chocolates. Retracting her hand from Hermione's face, she showed an approving nod to the brunette. "Perfect! Now, for your dress, don't worry about it. I already have your measurements and requested for Amelia to order the dress you will be wearing. Though of course there are several dresses I have ordered and need to see if what among them will suit you." She announced as if she already know that Hermione would not reject the offer. She went towards Amelia and told her favorite help to prepare the dress and other needs in order to beautify the brunette.

While Apolline was busy talking to Amelia, Gabrielle tugged Hermione's sleeves and silently pointed towards the exit. The brunette nodded and followed the young blonde exit the dining area.

Deciding to follow Gabrielle, Hermione was led to the manor garden. A few yards away from the forest area that's being guarded by blue-suited guards. Gabrielle took the Sylph captive to the gazebo that's near a small pond and was told that they will be staying there for a while. Both of them sat on one of the chairs and admired the scenery.

"I apologize for me maman's actionz, Hermione." Gabrielle said, breaking the silence.

Hermione slowly turned to her companion and showed the young teen a small smile. "I should be the one apologizing. I caused-"

Gabrielle shook her head. " _Non._  We already accepted Clemence's fate." She looked at the yellow roses that crept around the pillars of the gazebo. "The flower does not blame you either." She added, touching a yellow rose that was near her.

Chocolate brown colored eyes darted to what Gabrielle was looking at and took the whole 'flower' part as a representation of the Delacour family crest.

The yellow roses. The crest of the Delacours.

"But it is not what I am apologizing for. My maman…" Gabrielle looked uneasy on her seat. "Maman really wanted to meet you after the Gamez. But with the letterz not being rezponded, zhe rezorted to contacting the Order and well, you know how they acted." She explained. She looked at the guards who dressed awkwardly in blue uniform.

Hermione looked at the men and women who did not blended in with the Sylph guards, assuming they are members of the Order. Then she wondered, why the members of the Order residing in Sylph manor. "Indeed. Gabby…" she whispered the name of her companion. The young blonde turned to her with a questioning look on her face. "Is your family connected with the Order?" she whispered again.

Gabrielle looked around, checking if there are anyone that could hear them. When there was no one within hearing range, she nodded head. "Oui. We have zome connectionz with the Order but you did not hear that from me." She grinned and winked at the brunette.

The captive understood what Gabrielle meant. Being connected with the group of people who are planning on overthrowing the Ministry is not to be spoken out loud. But now she understood how the Order of the Phoenix can be well-funded.  _'So the Order has some strong and wealthy back-up.'_  She looked at the guards and the rebels who are pretending to be guards and noted how both parties did not mind being near each other. Among the rebels, she saw a certain blonde masked woman, talking to Harry and Viktor, while the lunatic Bellatrix stood behind her. She often see the two together and wondered why.

"The Commander…" Hermione said out loud, gaining the attention of Gabrielle. "Is she always with Bellatrix?" she asked Gabrielle while still watching the rebels. She noted how the Commander removed her military outfit and now wore a plain black shirt, black gloves, black military pants and boots.  _'Black must be her favorite color.'_  She mused sarcastically. The only thing that's not black in the commander's ensemble are the white bandages on her wrists and the red with gold cloth tied on her left bicep. She had a feeling of familiarity when she laid eyes on the red with gold cloth.

"Bella iz the Commander's bodyguard. Not that zhe need it though. Just a precaution." Gabrielle answered. "The Commander is capable of protecting herzelf. I have zeen her beat men twice as large as her."

"Is that right…" Hermione mumbled. She watched how Viktor crossed his arms while Bellatrix was prancing around him and laughing loudly; the laughter was loud enough for her to hear clearly. She can see that Harry was grinning while watching Bellatrix and Viktor and the Commander was shaking her head. She then wondered about her friend among the rebels. "How long have Harry been with the rebels?"

"A bit over zix months? I'm not zure. One day, the Commander vizited and he waz with her." the young blonde answered. Then she remembered how the Commander treated Hermione earlier. "Don't take what the Commander zaid earlier to heart. Zhe is very nice but zometimez, her temper getz the better of her and cloudz her judgment." She shrugged.

Hermione could believe the temper part but the nice part? Ever since meeting the blonde masked woman, never did she saw the niceness Gabrielle was speaking of. "Nice? I'm not sure about that…" she mused and turned her attention back to Gabrielle. "We did not really have a 'nice' conversation ever since we've met earlier. She threw a dagger at me." She said flatly.

After what Hermione said, Gabrielle snickered. "Oh did zhe? I can imagine how zhe looked when she did it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is she always like that?"

" _Oui_. Zhe haz a weird way of greeting zomeone. Either zhe givez them a verbal lazhingz or throw anything zhe could hold. But that iz when zhe deemz the other perzon as a friendly. If not…" Gabrielle made a slitting gesture on her throat and then giggled. "Anyway, enough about her. I would like to azk you something, that'z why I dragged you out here."

"And that is?" Gabrielle grinned like a cat. A sign that Hermione should really run for it. Her gut tells her to run and never look back.

The brunette did not listen to her gut instincts.

"I wanted to ask if you like my zizter before the gamez." The blonde asked innocently. "Zeemz that you and her were really cloze before."

The Gryffindor resident blinked a few times and then blushed. The memories of Clemence, five years ago, came crashing through the mental wall; breaking them like a sledge hammer plowing a concrete wall. But instead of her usual breakdown, after the talk and acceptance with Apolline, she smiled softly and remembered how Clemence made her feel before the games. During their daily meet ups at the forest. Be it their arguments, their silence, or just plain each other's company. It made her heart skip a beat, remembering the different expressions Clemence had that time.

Then the Games happened.

Clemence then turned a complete 180 with her personality. Gone was the girl that has a weak stamina and a princess-like attitude. The Clemence she met at the games was more authoritative, physically fit and flirtatious. That is shoving the new haircut aside. Still, even with the change, she still couldn't forget what she felt for the then and after Clemence.

Gabrielle saw how Hermione looked like she was in her own world. Frowns and then smiles. "Ohh… You like her." She teased. Hermione had to look away from Gabrielle and covered her face using her hair due to embarrassment. "I can zay that Hermione iz indeed in love with me sœurs." The young blonde grinned.

"Oh shut it Gabby." The brunette retorted, not liking how much teasing she received from the younger teen.

"Oh fine. But to be fair, me sœurs liked you a lot too." Gabrielle teased further.

Talking with Gabrielle about Clemence, never did Hermione felt the anger within her rise. That she somehow felt relieved that she was able to talk about Clemence without breaking down.  _'Is it because they probably felt how I feel?'_  she mused. She smiles a lot too.  _'There's something good after being kidnapped here.'_  Her lips curved to a smile again, remembering her talk with Apolline.

"And I bet that Clemence love you a lot." Hermione smiled. "She did volunteer for you during the reaping."

"Lookie, lookie. A canary and a cat. What an odd pair."

Hermione groaned, recognizing the voice that sounded maniacal and taunting at the same time. Gabrielle merely waved at the person standing behind Hermione.

"What do you want, Lestrange?" Hermione hissed, not liking how Bellatrix teased her.

Bellatrix, smiling as always, skipped around the gazebo and sat beside Gabrielle. She ruffled the teen's hair playfully which earned her a playful shove from her. "Want? Pft! I don't want anything from you." Bellatrix smirked and eyed the person that now stood behind Hermione. "But maybe the Commander wants something?"

Both Gabrielle and Hermione turned to where Bellatrix was looking at. Hermione, sitting in front of the Commander, saw the black military outfit of the rebel leader. The brunette frowned though she could see clearly that the Commander has a flat stomach.

The Commander, standing behind the brunette and eyes set on Bellatrix, flared her nostrils and crossed her arms. "I want no'zing from  _mademoiselle_ Granger, Bella. Our job wi'z 'er eez done." She scuffed and rounded the gazebo and sat beside Bellatrix, two seats away from Hermione.

"Well I want something from 'Mione!" Harry piped in. He sat beside Hermione and places an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "I heard about the whole ball and I'm glad you are joining 'Mione!"

Viktor, standing beside Hermione like the bodyguard he is, nodded in agreement.

"Maman probably haz her drezez back in the manor. Are you attending too Harry?" Gabrielle asked the boy who lived.

Harry shook his head. "I want too but a lot of people would recognize me. Plus I need to check on Ginny and Ron." He leaned his head on Hermione's. "I'm counting on you Gabby to watch over her, 'kay?" He felt Hermione tense up from his actions but slowly settled down and leaned back at him too.

Harry's request earned him a laugh from Bellatrix but everyone decided to ignore it.

" _Oui._  But I know Viktor will be guarding Hermione." Gabrielle looked at the bodyguard who shook his head and looked a bit disappointed. "No? why?" she asked.

"Viktor eez not allowed to be zeen by 'ze gueztz." It was the Commander who answered. There was annoyance in her voice but the rebels, naming everyone in the gazebo aside from Hermione, brushed it off as one of the Commander's usual reaction. "Eet eez not like  _mademoiselle_ Granger eez our rezponzibiliy 'arry. Our work 'ere eez done 'ence we do not need to worry about 'er." She glared at Hermione's direction.

The brunette, ignoring the Commander's obvious scowl directed at her, sighed and showed her friend a weak smile. "I'll be fine Harry. I don't think anything will happen. It's just a ball."

"Hey! Ball or not, I want you to be safe. There are some leering men attending that ball and I don't want you to be harassed in any way." Harry said like an overly-protective brother.

Two maids approached the rebels, Gabrielle and Hermione and served them tea, and asked if they needed anything else. The Commander shook her head and dismissed the maids.

Bellatrix laughed once again. "Granger here doesn't need any bodyguard there. The men will need one though." She glanced at the Commander who was savoring the aroma of her tea. "Am I right Commander?"

The rebel leader looked up from her right-hand woman then back to her tea. "Man or woman, no one eez zafe from 'er. Look at w'at 'appen to Clemence."

Hermione, once was feeling comfortable talking about Clemence, felt something in her snap. She glared fiercely at the woman who angered her. Shoving Harry aside, she stood up and slammed her hands on the table, leaning forward to the Commander. The blonde rebel looked back at her, not even rattled by her anger. The Commander was looking at her with a taunting smirk on her face. "I hate you." She said coldly and left the gazebo.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written by 3 Fleurmione fanatics. Find us eh?


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